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Louisa Van Benthusen. 


A NOVEL. 


BY 

MINNIE L. HARVEY. 

1 1 * 


“ Life's but a walking shadow ; a poor player , 
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, 
And then is heard no more.” 

— Shakespeare. 



W. H. THOMPSON 

1882. 


Copyrighted by Minnih L. Harvey, according to Act of Congress, A. D. 188a. 


THIS MY FIRST BOOK 


is 

AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 

TO 


My Parents. 















t 

















INTRODUCTION. 


When I began to write this story I did not dream of 
making a book. But, as I wrote, my thoughts came so 
rapidly, and they were so many and so varied, that 
before I was fairly aware of the fact I had reached a 
point beyond that at which I had aimed, and when 
done, I found that I had written a book. 

Should my writings, with all their imperfections, be 
well received, I cannot deny that it will be a source of 
purest gratification to me. Although I do not aspire 
to those high honors which are the rewards of lofty 
intellects, yet it is the sincerest wish of my heart to 
secure some little, humble corner in the good opinion 
and kind feelings of my own American people. 

I am only a looker-on upon the world’s stage, and 
yet as an artist scans with critical eye the scene before 
him, and then cautiously and carefully traces on his 
canvas the outlines of some beautiful landscape, so 
have I keenly observed and traced out in word-pictures 
the lives of many people, contrasting their different 
manners, dispositions and natures, and then I have 
woven them together in this simple connection. The 

( 5 ) 


6 


INTRODUCTION. 


narrative is founded upon facts drawn from real life, to 
show its many ups and downs in various spheres. 

Herein is shown the broad expanding space, existing 
between the inward and outward friendships ; also, the 
result of giving up the heart, mind and soul to selfish 
motives, which, in the end, bring the destruction of 
hopes and everlasting sorrow. 

If the full meaning can be traced out as is intended, 
it will illustrate to the reader the true inward condition 
of the fashionable society of a modern American city. 

Not, however, unconscious of my inability to do full 
justice to an undertaking that a wiser head and abler 
pen might well portray, yet I send this little volume out 
into the world, hoping that it may win for itself and 
the author what earnest endeavor ever receives from a 
discriminating public. 


M. L. H. 


CONTENTS 


Commencement . . 

CHAPTER I. fagb 

The Surprise . . . 

CHAPTER II. 

The Party 

CHAPTER III. 

• • • • 37 

The Excitement . . 

CHAPTER IV. 

50 

CHAPTER V. 


Caution Against Evil Workers 64 


The Proposals . . . 

CHAPTER VI. 

78 

A Visit to the Poor 

CHAPTER VII. 

88 

Out West 

CHAPTER VIII. 

An Object in View . 

CHAPTER IX. 

118 

The Five Friends . 

CHAPTER X. 


(7) 


8 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XI. 

Reveries of the Future 143 

CHAPTER XII. 

Blasted Hopes. 15 1 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Struggles of a Broken Heart 163 

CHAPTER XIV. * 

The Messenger of Death 178 

CHAPTER XV. 

Life’s Changes 191 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Edith’s Trials 199 

CHAPTER XVII. 

The Rejected Proposal 21 1 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

A Visit Out West 224 

CHAPTER XIX. 

The Declaration of Love 236 

CHAPTER XX. 

Edith Meets an Old Friend 248 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Honor to Whom Honor is Due 262 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Louisa’s Marriage 277 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Conclusion 288 


CHAPTER I. 


COMMENCEMENT. 


H OW beautiful !” “ How pure and sweet she 
looks !” were remarks made by many as 
they beheld a tableau of perfect loveliness standing 
before them. 

It was commencement night at the Benson Acad- 
emy ; an event which occurred in the early part of 
June in each year. The large and magnificent Hall 
was handsomely decorated with evergreens, wild 
vines and a profusion of beautiful flowers. Banners 
lettered with gold were artistically displayed and 
attracted the eye of every one of the many parents, 
relatives and friends, who gathered within those spa- 
cious walls, which on every side bore words of wel- 
come and cheer. The stage was a perfect bed of 
green. At each end stood a massive white vase 
filled with the choicest flowers and ferns, while droop- 
ing from them in abundance were a profusion of 
trailing vines. 

Commencement is a never-to-be-forgotten event in 
the lives of those who have slowly, but steadfastly, 
climbed the ladder of learning, and have at last in 
triumph reached this uppermost round. So it was 
to-night at Benson Academy, when five highly culti- 

( 9 ) 


10 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


vated, brilliant young ladies stood, as it were, upon 
the threshold of life looking forth upon its opening 
journey. Unclouded skies above them and bright 
hopes within them, cheered each of their young 
hearts into exuberant happiness as they felt the pure 
and gentle influences of life in its freshness, guarded 
as they were by kind and loving friends, who watched 
over them with an intensity of interest and pride. 

When the principal arose and announced the name 
of Louisa Van Benthusen, she swept gracefully across 
the stage, her rare personal beauty attracting the eye 
of every one present ; winning the admiration of all, 
and calling forth the remarks recorded at the open- 
ing of this chapter. 

She was slightly built; her clear, fair skin was 
delicately tinted with the flush of youth ; her eyes 
of hazel sparkled and flashed with genius and in- 
tellect. 

She wore a pure white illusion dress, beautifully 
and tastefully trimmed to harmonize with her deli- 
cate, but finely proportioned figure. At the side and 
low down on the trail drooped sprays of green leaves 
intermixed with loops and bows of white satin rib- 
bon. The front of the dress was similarly arranged; 
short sleeves displayed an arm and hand so exqui- 
sitely formed that they would have made a model fit 
for the sculptor’s chisel. Her nut-brown hair hung 
in rich curls about her shoulders, and she looked, as 
she stood for a moment to receive a bouquet of pure 
white flowers, a radiant picture of loveliness formed 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


I I 


in one of nature’s most perfect moulds. While 
reading her well-composed essay she seemed not to 
realize that any one was listening to the words as 
they fell from her lips, clear and deep, filling every 
heart present with tenderness and love. 

Years have gone by, but the exquisite scene of 
that June evening will ever remain fresh and green 
in the golden casket of memory ; but look out into 
the future, and trace out the eventful life of her who 
was that charming girl. 

She was the only child of very wealthy parents. 
Her mother was noted for her highly cultivated man- 
ner and her kind and affectionate disposition. Al- 
ways ready to extend a sympathetic hand to the 
afflicted, and often beside the beds of sickness and 
death, she was daily seen administering comforting 
words to the sorrowing, or soothing the brow of the 
suffering ; and many a dollar found its way from her 
liberal, well-filled purse to keep the wolf from the 
door of the destitute. Besides all this, she was a 
lady of fashion. By her elegance and tastefulness 
in her dress, and by the dashing style of her equi- 
page, she created a marked sensation at numerous 
parties and receptions ; and her own entertainments 
at home were composed of the most fashionable 
and select persons. 

Louisa’s father was a clear-headed, quick-witted 
man, whose fine manner and superior intellect quali- 
fied him for the highest positions in life. In days 
gone by he was thoroughly captivated by the rare 


12 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


personal beauty and gentle disposition of Louisa’s 
mother, and he was married to her one charming 
winter evening, about the middle of December. This 
distinguished young couple were the admired centre 
of attraction for many months, and it was not until 
the gayety that followed their marriage was over, that 
they were left much alone in the quiet of their own 
apartments, undisturbed by callers. 

William Van Benthusen walked into the drawing- 
room one evening, and bending over to his pretty 
young wife, he said : “ Now, my dear, we have this 
whole long evening to ourselves, away from the gay 
world of fashion, and I have come home early on 
purpose to chat with you alone. I have lived so 
many years in the ever-changing whirl of fashion- 
able life, and have seen deception and sham prac- 
ticed to such an extent that I long for the comforts 
and happiness of our own domestic hearth. Sup- 
pose, then, we go to housekeeping by ourselves.” 

“Why, William, how did you happen to think of 
that? Wouldn’t it be just lovely ? # I dislike board- 
ing ; it is so wearisome sometimes to me, and I have 
always longed for a pretty little cottage, surrounded 
by trees, and a nice flower garden, and lots of pretty 
vines up to the windows. We could have a beautiful 
little home, and, oh ! how very happy we would be.” 

“Yes, darling,” replied the affectionate husband, 
“ after all this season of gayety it would seem so rest- 
ful, such a luxury to be surrounded by comforts in 
a home of our own. Not only for our mental facul- 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


13 


ties do I crave it, but it would benefit health as 
well.” 

“ Indeed it will. I wish we were going to-mor- 
row; it will be just delightful. I can almost imagine 
us now seated in our own little parlor. I shall be 
so happy. Won’t you ?” 

To this question William made no reply for some 
minutes; his heart was so filled with joy beyond 
utterance to know that he had married such a wife. 
When, however, he looked into her face, and noticed 
her expressive countenance, as if about to question 
him why he did not reply to her remark, he said : 

“ I am so happy, dear. I know that all my fond 
dreams can be realized, and we can enjoy every 
blessing.” 

“ When shall I begin to make preparations ?” in- 
quired the eager wife. 

“ Just as soon as you wish, for as quick as the cold 
weather shall have passed away, we will remove.” 

Weeks slipped hastily by, and merrily the prepa- 
rations were advancing. Winter had given place to 
spring, but the house repairs were not yet com- 
pleted, and spring-time had drifted into summer be- 
fore Mr. and Mrs. Van Benthusen found themselves 
settled in a new home. But instead of a little cot- 
tage, as Mrs. Van Benthusen had mentioned, the 
new home was a large, spacious mansion, that stood 
on an eminence overlooking a broad sheet of water. 

At one end of the house, over a long veranda, 
grew a woodbine which completely enveloped the 


H 


LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 


whole in a mass of green, which was not only most 
beautiful to gaze upon, but which formed a cool re- 
treat from the noonday sun. The circled drives, the 
summer-house, the lawns covered with their mantle 
of refreshing green, and two large fountains that 
played at either side of the walk, gave freshness to 
the air and beauty to the scene. 

In a cozy little nook beneath the shade of a stately 
oak was a rustic seat. At the left a stream of spark- 
ling water wended its way onward to the sea. Along 
its mossy banks wild violets and long grasses grew, 
and waved in the gentle breeze. At the right, and 
in various other parts of the extensive grounds, stood 
vases and mounds of bright flowers, contrasting 
beautifully with the green carpeted earth and the 
fair, blue sky. In the stable stood a span of shining 
black horses at their command, with other comforts 
that wealth only can procure and support. 

The second year of their marriage they were 
blessed with a daughter, who was fondly cherished 
by both mother and father. Mr. Van Benthusen 
hoped that she would possess the same pure and 
gentle disposition that was characterized so strongly 
in her mother, and in this respect his hopes were not 
in vain. 

When Louisa was about twelve years old, it was 
decided that they would dismiss the governess un- 
der whose careful training she had been for several 
years, and have her complete her education at the 
young ladies’ academy in the city, near which they 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


*5 


resided. At this excellent school she was taught 
all the acquirements and accomplishments that con- 
tribute to the education of a thoroughly refined lady. 
She had just graduated with the highest honors at 
the time previously mentioned, and her exquisite 
beauty and rare talent at that time could not help 
bringing forth the remarks, “ She is as fair as a lily!” 
“ She is perfectly lovely!” and other expressions of 
similar nature. All the compliments and praise 
that was bestowed upon her did not have any effect 
upon her heart, for she felt as though she ought 
rather to feel grateful to God for so lavishly endow- 
ing upon her such charms. She was the pet and 
pride of her father, who idolized her to a great ex- 
tent. She was always blithe and happy, and her 
presence was like the sunbeams of the morning. 
The rich and poor she loved alike, for it was the heart 
she loved, and circumstances were unconsidered. 

One day her mother received a call from a fashion- 
able acquaintance, and during the conversation, was 
telling her that Louisa’s tastes accorded very har- 
moniously with her own, and that she was as ready 
to receive into her confidence and friendship the 
daughter of a poor man as the daughter of a senator, 
or any one of wealth and station, provided they were 
equally pure, “ and,” continued Mrs. Van Benthusen, 
“ when my dressmaker, Mrs. Scrivener, comes, Louisa 
is perfectly happy, visiting with her.” 

“ I should think you would dislike her tastes,” 
replied Mrs. Snodgrass. 


1 6 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“ Oh, you know Mrs. Scrivener is very highly 
educated, and very refined in her manners, though 
she has been obliged through misfortune to support 
herself and family. Louisa thinks very much of her 
and often calls at her home to visit with the family/’ 

“ Yes,” exclaimed Louisa, “ I do love her dearly, 
and you know Gertrude is so pretty and good. We 
have such lovely times together making all kinds of 
fancy work, and talking over our school-day plea- 
sures; and then her brother Charlie is just as good 
and kind as he can be ; he takes us out boating on 
the lake and out in the parks and groves; he reads 
to us all the books and papers he gets, while we 
work on our tidies and fancy things, and O Mrs. 
Snodgrass, we have the grandest time imaginable !” 

“ I have no doubt that you have fine times,” re- 
plied Mrs. Snodgrass ; “ but, ’’continued she, “ I should 
think that you would rather select some one whose 
position in life was equal to your own. Oh, dear,” 
and she drew a long sigh, “ I am so glad I have no 
children to bring up, for I should be constantly wor- 
ried at their selections of companions, lest they 
should choose the poor, uncultivated class.” 

“ If you only knew,” answered Louisa, “ what de- 
lightful visits I have at Mrs. Scrivener’s, you would 
think differently of the poor. Now, when I go there, 
Mrs. Scrivener makes us nice suppers and sets the 
table out in the grove, and we are all just as happy 
as can be. I know I have a lovelier home than Ger- 
trude has, and more costly dresses, and all that, but 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


1 7 

that has nothing to do with happiness. I can be 
just as happy in Mrs. Scrivener’s humble cottage as 
I can in the most stylish residence in the city.” 

“ I suppose,” replied Mrs. Snodgrass, “ that the 
poor woman is very happy in her family, and may be 
a very fine lady, but I do not think such people 
ought to be tolerated in society.” 

“ Yes, she is very happy, and what is more, she 
is contented, and does not even murmur at her 
lot,” replied Mrs. Van Benthusen, “ and,” continued 
she, “ her excellent education qualfies her for a posi- 
tion in life far above the ordinary, a position that 
would bring her children, if she had sufficient means, 
into society as leaders rather than as followers. What 
a grand thing it is to possess talent so genuine as hers. 
She is a born lady.” 

“How came she to be reduced in circumstances? 
and how in the wide world did she manage to edu- 
cate her children?” asked Mrs. Snodgrass. 

“Well, I will tell you. Just at the time when 
Gertrude and Charlie were ready to enter college, 
the deepest affliction that could happen to any family 
entered in at her door, and Mr. Scrivener was taken 
suddenly ill and passed away, leaving them in very 
embarrassing circumstances. But owing to Mrs. 
Scrivener’s thorough education, including French, 
German and Latin, she was enabled herself to train 
Gertrude and Charlie for a good education. At 
length an uncle of large estate furnished sufficient 
means to complete their studies at college, and so 


1 8 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

Gertrude and Louisa graduated at the same time, 
classmates and friends; while Charlie graduated at 
Harvard. No one can tell the number of long, 
weary hours that were spent by their mother, to 
help fit them for a position in life that she might 
feel proud of in days to come.” 

“ I am quite astonished,” said Mrs. Snodgrass, 
“ to learn that she came from an aristocratic family. 
Isn’t it a shame that she should have met with re- 
verses. For my part, I cannot see how she found 
time to teach her children and to take in dress- 
making, besides.” 

“ She used to teach them evenings,” replied Mrs. 
Van Benthusen. 

“Well! well! such an educated dressmaker is 
really something rare. Still, one never knows when 
riches may take unto themselves wings,” added 
Mrs. Snodgrass. 

“That is very true. I remember when Mrs. 
Scrivener was married, her husband, Emory Scrive- 
ner, was a fine-looking man, large-hearted and 
whole-souled; a most indulgent husband and loving 
father; honest and upright in all his dealings, and 
always kind to the poor. He was an intimate friend 
of Mr. Van Benthusen’s ; in fact, during their early 
boyhood and up until the time of Mr. Scrivener’s 
death, they were firm friends. Some months prior 
to his death his partner, through some mismanage- 
ment, caused their extensive business to fail, and all 
their elegant furniture and grand mansion were sold 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


19 


at auction. This so worked upon the mind of Mr. 
Scrivener that, as I said before, he fell completely 
prostrate under the shock and died, leaving scarcely 
enough to defray the funeral expenses and purchase 
the necessary comforts of life for his widow and 
family. But my husband helped her transact all 
her business, thus securing more for her than she 
otherwise would have been able to retain. Proud- 
spirited as she was, she would not accept a cent she 
had not earned, and that is how she came to take in 
dressmaking, at which she succeeded well.” 

“ How many strange things happen. It is use- 
less to count on anything only from one day to 
another,” said Mrs. Snodgrass. 

“ No, we never know what is going to happen 
until it comes,” replied Mrs. Van Benthusen, ‘‘and 
troubles never come singly.” 

“ That is so, but there is no kind of sense in fret- 
ting about such things ; or, as the old saying is, never 
cross the bridge until you get there. If we are 
always mourning over the misfortunes of others we 
will be miserable ourselves. When persons are pov- 
erty stricken, they should not expect to go out in 
society. Position is everything nowadays, and I must 
say, that if Louisa was a daughter of mine, I should 
forbid any further friendship to spring up between her 
and the son and daughter of a common dressmaker. 
Any one, with any eyes at all, can readily see there 
is an attachment now existing between Charlie and 
Louisa. Why, he is really quite devoted to her, now.”" 


20 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; OR, 


“ I do not think there is anything very serious in 
their devotion for each other,” said Mrs. Van- Ben- 
thusen. 

“ I would put a stop to it if I were in your place. 
Such attachments are oftentimes dangerous,” replied 
Mrs. Snodgrass, forcibly. 

“ Why ?” asked Mrs. Van Benthusen. 

“ Because, you know, it will soon be noticed, and 
how would you like to have our society remarking 
that the poor Mr. Scrivener is waiting upon the 
charming Louisa Van Benthusen. How that would 
grate upon refined ears, to be sure!” 

Mrs. Snodgrass, who has made herself so promi- 
nent just here, is the wife of a wealthy Southerner, 
and thinks of nothing but style. She was a poor 
girl previous to her marriage with Mr. Snodgrass. 
It was such a new feature in her life to occupy a 
place in society so much beyond anything that she 
had realized in years gone by, that oftentimes she 
would make herself ridiculous in company by her 
vain remarks. And yet she had not been idle, for 
by close observation and keenness, she had studied 
human nature to a great extent, and although it took 
her some time to work her way up into society, she 
finally succeeded, and now the doors of the most 
aristocratic are thrown open for her to enter ; and 
though she was from a poor, hard-working family 
herself, she has very little compassion for those that 
ask alms from her, and very frequently turns them 
from her door with abusive and angry words. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


21 


After Mrs. Snodgrass had gone, Louisa returned 
to the room, and said : 

“ Mother, I do not like Mrs. Snodgrass very much. 
She does not love my dear friends because they are 
now poor, and she wants to cut me off from their 
company.” 

“ Why, Louisa, dear, she always seems to think so 
much of you, and I suppose she thinks it is for your 
own good that she says these things.” 

“I know, mother. But she thinks we are so 
wealthy and that makes the difference. She does 
not like poor people. If we were as poor as Mrs. 
Scrivener, then, she would not love us, either.” 

“ Do not judge, dear child, without compassion or 
charity, for I think, although Mrs. Snodgrass is a 
strange person in many respects, yet she means to 
be kind, but she is so completely carried away with 
dress and fashion, just as that class of people always 
are, that she does not use the judgment that she is 
capable of exercising.” 

“ I am sorry, mother dear; but, indeed, I cannot 
help thinking she is unkind at heart ; and if she is, 
some day, perhaps, she may have occasion to reflect 
on her past actions. I do not think a person ever 
can live and prosper with such unkind feelings in 
the heart. Do you ?” 

“ No, my child, they generally are punished in 
some way ; but there is much unreality in life the 
world over, and society is filled with deception, and 
those that look closely, can discern it very plainly.” 


22 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


CHAPTER II. 

THE SURPRISE. 

“/^OOD evening, Gertrude,” said Maria Under- 

\JT wood, as she opened the door and walked 
into the neat little sitting-room where Mrs. Scrivener 
and Gertrude sat finishing off Fannie Schaydell’s 
rose-tinted satin dress, that she was having made to 
wear to Louisa Van Benthusen’s party the following 
evening. 

“ Good evening, Maria ; we were just speaking of 
you. You know the old saying is ‘Talk of the 
angels, and you will hear the rustling of their 
wings/ and I believe it must be so,” said Ger- 
trude. 

“ Just as you say. I just came in for a few mo- 
ments, to inquire if you were going to attend the 
party to-morrow night.” 

“ Oh, yes; I shall certainly go, for I promised I 
would.” 

“ That is right. I hope it will be a fine night. 
Don’t you?” 

“ Of course I do. Come, Maria, take off your 
hat, and stay the evening.” 

“ No, I must go home, for mother is not very 
well, and I told her I would not stay long.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 23 

“Then I will not urge you, much as I would like 
to have you stay.” 

“ I would like to stay very much ; but I’ll be in 
often by and by.” 

“ Did you know that Louisa’s cousin, Mr. Morri- 
son, and a college friend of his, a Mr. Goodes, from 
Cincinnati, are to be there, besides friends from va- 
rious other places ? We will have a delightful time, 
and I shall hope to meet you there. You are going, 
of course ?” said Gertrude. 

“ Yes, I shall attend, unless something unusual 
happens to prevent, and as far as I can see now, 
there will nothing occur,” replied Maria; “so you 
will undoubtedly see me.” 

“ Louisa told me you were going to sing, and I 
was so glad, for a fine voice is always an attraction,” 
said Gertrude, “ and I have great faith in your voice, 
and I know you will do splendidly. You always 
have acquitted yourself with credit, and I know you 
will this time.” 

“ Thank you, Gertrude. I know that a compli- 
ment from you is from your heart, and I know you 
would not say what you did not mean.” 

“ You are welcome, Maria. I meant it all, and 
more too. But let me thank you for your estima- 
tion of me.” 

“ You are welcome,” replied Maria, at the same 
moment turning around as if to go, when she saw 
something new lying upon the bed in the next room, 


24 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

and advancing toward the open door, she asked, “ Is 
this your dress ?” 

“Yes,” replied Gertrude. 

“ How very handsome it is.” 

“ Do you think so ?” 

“ I do.” 

“ Nothing elegant, you see, but the only thing I 
could get that would be suitable for the occasion, 
and not very expensive.” 

“ It is beautiful. You could not have selected 
anything prettier. I always did admire this shade 
of pale blue so much, and the white illusion, and 
these little clusters of pink rosebuds make it look 
just lovely. I am sure Mr. Morrison, if he has good 
taste, cannot help admiring you.” 

“But, Maria; just think, there will be so many 
others, dressed so much grander than anything I 
can afford, that in all probability he will be attracted 
to the side of some heiress, and he will never see 
me at all among such a large gathering.” 

“ Oh, yes, he will.” 

“ I guess not.” 

“ I know he will,” insisted Maria. 

“ Well, we will see,” responded Gertrude. 

“ All right !” 

“What are you going to wear? You have not 
told me yet. Something pretty, I warrant.” 

“ I took my lemon-tinted silk down to Madame 
Du Cheyes yesterday, and she is trimming it with 
white satin and Spanish lace. Then I shall just 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 25 

wear my diamond ornaments to complete my cos- 
tume.”. 

“ That will look handsome. I expect every one 
will be dressed in the height of fashion, for it is to 
be the event of the season. There are something 
like three hundred invitations out, I believe.” 

“ I did not think there were so many as that. 
Still, I knew there were a great many. Then, of 
course, we must all look as well as we can,” said 
Maria. 

“ Louisa says Mr. Goodes is passionately fond of 
music and singing, and your voice will charm him, 
I know,” said Gertrude. 

“ Then there will be a stranger for each of us,” 
said Maria, jestingly, and a merry laugh filled the 
room ; but it was almost immediately silenced by a 
loud ring at the door-bell. Maria at once bid good 
night, and departed before Mrs. Scrivener arose to 
answer the summons. Before she reached the hall 
the bell was pulled again, and upon opening the 
door a large, heavy-built, fine-looking gentleman, 
with long, black beard, sprinkled over here and there 
with a little gray, entered the room. A keen, dark, 
expressive eye met her own as he looked into her 
face, and said : 

“ I believe I address Mrs. Scrivener. Do I not ?” 

“ You do,” replied the lady. “ Please be seated,” 
added she, at the same time offering him a chair. 

He accepted the offered seat, and after a few mo- 
ments’ pause, remarked : 


26 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


“ I guess you do not recognize me, Mrs. Scrive- 
ner.” 

“ No, I really do not recollect ever having seen 
you before. I think you must be mistaken, and it 
is some other lady by the same name, that you are 
in search of.” 

“ You are a widow, are you not?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And have two grown children ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then I have made no mistake. Do you not re- 
member me ?” inquired the gentleman. 

“ I do not.” 

“Well ! Well ! You have quite forgotten me, I 
see ; but I cannot wonder at it, for I have changed 
a great deal.” 

“ I am quite interested to know who you are. 
Do tell me,” said the pretty lady, resolving to push 
her investigation a little closer, having now become 
quite inquisitive. 

“ Well, I am none other than your husband’s 
brother, John Scrivener, who went to California 
twenty years ago to-day, when Gertrude was only 
a little infant in your arms.” 

“ Is it possible ?” cried Mrs. Scrivener, scarcely 
waiting for him to finish his remarks, as she ad- 
vanced and grasped his hand, and shaking it cor- 
dially, said : “ And this is brother John, whom 
we all mourned over as dead. How you have 
changed. I never would have known that you 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 27 

were the delicate young man that left us twenty 
years ago.” 

“ If you doubt my identity, just let me give you a 
short sketch of my history, which will be sufficient 
evidence that I am your brother.” 

“ I do not doubt your word in the least, but I 
would like to hear all you would say,” replied Mrs. 
Scrivener. 

“ Oh, yes, do tell us,” chimed in Gertrude and 
Charlie, at the same time. 

“ You remember what a lovely, bright day it was 
when I started for the great West — just such a day 
as this has been — how much it has reminded me of 
it.” 

“Just such another. I remember it very dis- 
tinctly,” replied Mrs. Scrivener. 

“ Well, you remember, of course, I asked brother 
Emory to loan me, until I could return it, the sum 
of five hundred dollars. You gave your consent as 
willingly as though it had been but a single dollar I 
had asked. How surprised I was when he came 
home that evening to tea, and handed me a check 
for a thousand dollars, with these words : ‘ There, 

John, take this as a little token of respect from me, 
and unless I or mine should ever meet with misfor- 
tunes, so that they will need assistance, you need 
not return it. You have always been good and 
kind to help me in my business, and also about the 
house, and been so good to the children and my 
wife, that I only wish I could spare more for you ; 


28 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


but I cannot at present. So take this, and God bless 
you in all your future undertakings/ 

“All that night my heart was so full of gratitude to 
know that I had such a kind and generous-hearted 
brother, and that I had been the recipient of such a 
handsome gift, I could not sleep, but I tossed restlessly 
about from one pillow to the other, resolving that I 
would make my fortune from that, and then return 
and relate all my adventures to him, knowing that 
that would be all the compensation he would ask. 
I never dreamed of him dying, or even meeting with 
reverses. Accordingly, the next day I took my de- 
parture, and as he pressed my hand and wished me 
good luck, I can never forget the tender look he 
gave me. It was his last look for me. In imagina- 
tion I think I see him now, as he stood on the plat- 
form as the train moved slowly out of the depot. 
He was a good-hearted, noble fellow, to be sure.” 

Here the big tears fell like rain-drops, thick and 
fast, until finally recovering self-possession suf- 
ficiently, he continued: “Well, I have succeeded 
in everything I have undertaken far beyond my 
most sanguine expectations, and to you I am partly 
indebted for all I own. As soon as I learned, 
through an old friend, of your bereavement, and 
that you were in need, I came immediately to your 
assistance. 

“Now I am going to tell you a little of my experi- 
ence. After I had been in California fora longtime 
and invested largely in the gold mining business, 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


29 


and reaped heavily therefrom, I left my business 
with responsible parties to manage, and went to 
Florida ; from there to Australia ; and thence to 
England, where I saw a gentleman that I had met 
some two years previous in California. With him I 
traveled to South America, and then returned to 
California, where he and I entered into business to- 
gether. It seemed as if every turn of the hand 
brought us riches. Every expenditure we made 
doubled itself in profit, and I am to-day worth three 
million dollars. A little over a year ago I was 
united in marriage to a beautiful young lady, whose 
parents were both lost at sea. Until I married her 
she was left all alone in the world, with no one to 
protect her, and if I had searched the world over 
I could not have made a better selection. Some 
weeks ago I got to thinking about home, and longed 
once again to see the quiet little village on the shores 
of Lake Erie where I passed my golden boyhood 
days. The memory of my childhood home and the 
loving hearts that sheltered me there, haunted me 
like a vision, and I resolved to go again, although 
I well knew that years had slipped quietly away 
since they that I loved were laid silently to rest. 
Yet still I longed to be there, and to see what there 
was left that I knew. But, alas ! for me there was 
nothing. The old home was crumbled to decay. 
The path to the door was grown over and covered 
with dead branches and leaves. Everything looked 
desolate around. The old neighborhood had sadly 


30 


LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 


changed, and all those that I knew were gone ; some 
married, some gone to other cities, towns and vil- 
lages, and made their homes there. A large num- 
ber were dead, new faces occupied their places, and, 
oh, how my heart sank in great grief as I looked 
about and saw such sad changes. 

“ It seemed but a day since I left it all and went 
away; but twenty long years bring about many 
strange happenings that we little dream of. I could 
not stay any longer there, and so I took the train 
to come and find you, as you are all that is left to 
me now of my relatives, and knowing your circum- 
stances, I hope I may be of some service to you 
now, as you were so generous and kind to con- 
sent to your husband’s wish to give me the money 
that was the foundation of my prosperous business 
and accumulated wealth.” 

“ Yes, John, you may assist me a little now if you 
choose, for my fortune has wonderfully reversed 
since you were with us before. I am now obliged 
to earn my own support, and sometimes it seems as 
though I would give out entirely. My brother 
James kindly provided sufficient means to edu- 
cate Charlie and Gertrude, and they have recently 
graduated with the highest honors.” 

“ I am glad to hear that, for there is nothing like 
a good education.” 

“ They are fully capable to go out in the best 
society now, but we are too poor to admit of that. 
Gertrude was thinking of getting up a class of pupils 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


31 


to instruct in music ; while Charlie has been offered 
a position to teach in the High School,” said Mrs. 
Scrivener, earnestly. 

“ Charlie and Gertrude need do nothing at present, 
and neither need you do any more laborious work, 
for you are poor no longer. So cheer up, for before 
the sun sets to-morrow, there shall be a hundred 
thousand dollars deposited in the First National 
Bank to your credit, and then it is my wish and re- 
quest that you purchase a nice, handsome home, and 
enjoy all the luxuries that you certainly deserve.” 

“ Oh, thank you a thousand times !” exclaimed 
Mrs. Scrivener, while Gertrude and Charlie cried, 
“ That will be delightful ! What a dear, good uncle 
you are !” 

“ I am so glad, for mother’s sake !” said Charlie. 

“ And we won’t be sneered at, and called the son 
and daughter of a poor dressmaker any longer!” 
chimed in Gertrude, full of animation. 

Clasping both of them in his arms, he said : “ I 

am truly proud of my nephew and niece, the only 
ones I have in the world, and if both of you follow 
the footsteps of your parents your lives will be a 
blessing to yourselves and a comfort to every one 
around you.” 

For a long time, until late in the evening, they all 
conversed, and when Mrs. Scrivener retired to her 
room she knelt down and thanked God for the great, 
unexpected joy that had come upon her just at the 
time when she most needed it. 


32 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

Accordingly, as he promised, the next day tht 
money was placed in the bank, and owing to very 
urgent business in New York City, he took his de- 
parture on the early afternoon train, accompanied 
by his nephew, whom he had wished to take with 
him for company, promising to stop on his return 
for a longer visit. 

They had only been gone a short time when a 
carriage drove up to the door, and the bell rang. 
In response, Fannie Schaydell walked in with an air 
of haughty indifference, demanding in an overbear- 
ing tone of voice, of Mrs. Scrivener, if her party 
dress was done. At once Mrs. Scrivener went to 
her closet and brought it out from where she had a 
moment before hung it, and with a smiling face and 
gentle voice, said : “ It is all finished, Miss Schay- 

dell, ” turning it over for examination, and then ad- 
ding the words, “ I hope it suits you.” 

Looking it over, as if in search of something in 
which she might find fault, but failing to see any- 
thing, she tossed up her head, saying, “ I suppose it 
will have to do ; you may wrap it up.” While Mrs. 
Scrivener was folding it in a paper, Fannie drew her 
purse from her pocket, took out the money to pay 
for it, and laid it upon the table. Then, taking her 
package, she went away without even passing the 
courtesies of the day, and when she stepped upon 
the stone pavement she fairly shook her shoes, as if 
she had been to a place not fit for her fine feet to 
enter. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


33 


Fannie Schaydell was tall and slim, but a very, 
pretty figure. Her eyes were gray, and, except 
when she was excited by something unusually en- 
joyable, their expression was cold and liard. Her 
complexion was very fair, and her light hair she 
wore waved, and carelessly coiled at the back. 
Maria Underwood was a brunette, with a real olive 
complexion and rosy cheeks, large, full eyes, as 
black as jet, that could not be outshone for brilliancy. 
Hair as black and shining as the raven’s wing. Ger- 
trude Scrivener was very fair, and she had a pair of 
wonderfully large, clear blue eyes, with an expression 
that showed her soul was filled with love and tender- 
ness. Her golden-brown hair she wore in long, 
shining braids, fastened together at the back with a 
jet band. 

Louisa Van Benthusen’s party was the theme of 
conversation in hundreds of homes, and among hun- 
dreds that were and were not honored with an invi- 
tation to the greatest event of the season. Late in the 
afternoon, in the stylish music-room, Fannie Schay- 
dell sat conversing with her mother, who was always 
envious lest some other lady should make a better 
appearance than her daughter in the elegance of 
dress, and who remarked : 

" I have spared no pains to make your dress one 
of the most attractive there. I know there will 
not be one to compare with it. Besides, I pur- 
chased for you this diamond set,” placing a jewel 
casket upon Fannie’s lap. It contained a neck- 
3 


34 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

lace, set in diamonds and pearls, and bracelets to 
correspond. 

To this, Fannie responded in a voice of indiffer- 
ence, as though it was nothing more than she ought 
to do : 

“ Much obliged. They will draw attention. I 
mean to exceed in dress at least. That is one point, 
any way. You know the wealthy Mr. Morrison is 
to be there, and other strangers of note, and I must 
make a conquest of some one of them.” 

“ That will be easily done, Fannie,” said her 
mother, with a nod of the head and a very approv- 
ing smile upon her countenance. 

“ I don’t know,” replied Fannie, “ as it will. 
Easier said than done, mother ; but I am going to 
try, let the consequences be what they may.” 

“ You will succeed, so don’t worry,” said her 
mother. 

“ If it was not that Louisa Van Benthusen was so 
completely wrapped up in that stuck-up, poverty- 
stricken Gertrude Scrivener, I would have more of 
a chance. I don’t care so much about Maria Un- 
derwood, for she belongs in our society and is not 
very attractive any way. But that Scrivener girl 
is always first in everything with Louisa. I guess 
more on her brother’s account than anything else, 
if the truth was known. No one else stands a 
chance to get the inside track. Louisa shows her 
such marked attention that it brings her right in 
at once with all her most intimate friends. I am 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


35 


really astonished to think that the daughter of a 
poor, low, contemptible dressmaker should be toler- 
ated in society, and especially at Mrs. Van Benthu- 
sen’s. But there is this one thing certain, if she is 
handsome, I can eclipse her in dress. That is some 
gratification.” 

“ If' I were you,” remarked Mrs. Schaydell, “ I 
would not pay her the least attention but treat her 
coolly, in the presence of other guests.” 

“ Good Lord, mother, don’t you know anything 
at all ? Your own sense might teach you that such 
actions would never do. I am obliged to treat her 
respectfully, no matter how I despise her, on Louisa’s 
account, if no other. They are such friends, you 
know, and if I should ill-treat her it might offend 
the Van Benthusens, and at their parties I make the 
most conquests. But that Scrivener set can never 
be invited to my home, among my friends.” 

“ You are correct in your good judgment, dear 
Fannie; I never thought of the friendship existing 
between them. Do as you think best. I know you 
are far more capable of the manner to conduct your- 
self than I am. I know you will do what is the 
most agreeable to your friends. I will trust you for 
bringing everything to suit you. But do not let 
that Gertrude Scrivener ever come between you and 
any gentleman you wish to form the acquaintance 
of.” Just then, looking at her watch, she rose from 
her velvet-cushioned chair, saying, “ Come, Fannie, 
would you believe it was so late. It is time you 


36 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


were beginning to dress. Let us go to your rooms 
immediately.” 

“All right, mother,” said Fannie, slowly rising 
up and yawning. “ Come on.” And away they 
went. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


37 


CHAPTER III. 

THE PARTY. 

T HE evening of the party had arrived, and many 
busy hands, heads and hearts were at work ar- 
ranging for this brilliant occasion. Floods of light 
streamed from every window of the elegant mansion 
of Mrs. Van Benthusen. It was a calm, clear even- 
ing in the middle part of November, the great, round 
moon shone deeply down, casting its rays abroad 
over a beautiful landscape. 

Here and there a bright star was visible, as though 
keeping watch while their companions slept. There 
was no snow to be seen. What had previously 
fallen, a few days before, had all disappeared, and 
the soft, balmy air made it seem more like a spring 
evening than one in the winter months. 

Sweet music filled the air, and in the elegantly- 
furnished rooms sets were forming on the floor for 
the dance. Young hearts were filled with anima- 
tion, and joy beamed from many a sparkling eye. 
Every now and then, a merry ring of laughter floated 
out on the night air, telling to those that had occa- 
sion to pass by on the outside, that within gay hearts 
were happy and joyous as could be upon such a 
festal evening. While all around were chatting 


38 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

and talking, and little groups of intimate friends were 
gathered about here and there to indulge in social 
conversation, Louisa "Van Benthusen approached 
v her cousin, Mr. Morrison, saying: 

“ Frank, do you see that charming young lady 
sitting over there by the west window ?” 

“Yes, I noticed you were conversing with her a few 
minutes ago, and I was casting veiy admiring glances 
in that direction,” replied her cousin. 

“Were you, indeed?” said Louisa. “Don’t you 
think she is lovely?” 

“ I think I never saw a face that struck me with 
quite so much interest. She is certainly very beau- 
tiful, and she just suits my ideal of beauty; but I 
wonder why she seems to carry such a sadly sweet 
expression on her pretty face, as if she had some 
deep trouble that she could not rally from. Who 
is she, Louisa?” 

“ Oh, she is my dear, dear friend, Gertrude Scriv- 
ener. Come, let me present you to her. I know 
you will think she is charming.” 

Immediately they walked over to where she sat. 
Mr. Morrison was at once fascinated by her attrac- 
tive manner and soft, affectionate voice, and he be- 
gan conversation at once, stimulated by an occa- ■ 
sional word from Louisa that had its effect ; and now, 
while they are about to engage in dancing, you, 
kind reader, shall know a little of the history of 
Frank Morrison. 

In the first place, he is not Louisa Van Benthu- 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


39 


sen’s real cousin at all ; but when he was only a lit- 
tle child her Uncle and Aunt Worthington, who at 
that time lived in the city of Boston, adopted him 
to bring up and educate as their own. 

It was not many years afterwards that his grand- 
father died, leaving Frank in possession of a large 
farm in New York State. This was in a good state 
of cultivation, but as it was of no use to Mr. and 
Mrs. Worthington, and as Frank was too young to 
understand the working of it, it was sold at a great 
bargain, and the money was put at interest until 
Frank should become old enough to manage it and 
go into business. 

In the meantime, his foster parents had him placed 
in a good school where he continued until he grad- 
uated. He afterwards studied law, was admitted to 
the bar with the highest honors, being a credit to 
himself and the anxious parents that provided for 
him so generously. He grew to love his benefac- 
tors most ardently, and they were equally fond of 
him. But they were not destined long to remain to- 
gether, for within a year after his education was 
completed they both died, leaving him their entire 
estate, which was not small. Although he was so 
well provided for that he might have led an idle 
life, yet he preferred an active business, and so 
went at once to Cincinnati and engaged in the dry- 
goods trade. Here he soon grew to be very pop- 
ular among all that knew him, and he gained many 
friends. 


40 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

During the sultry summer season he generally 
spent a month or thereabouts at Long Branch or 
Cape May, and the cold winter months he spent at 
the South. But instead of going there this winter, 
Louisa invited him to spend the time with her. 
He accepted, and brought his friend, Mr. Goodes, a 
well-to-do druggist and apothecary, with him. 

As Mr. Morrison and Louisa now entered upon 
the dance, Fannie Schaydell approached Gertrude 
from where she had been listening to all the praise- 
ful remarks passed upon Gertrude’s beauty and 
character, and to the words of the elegant gentle- 
man who had just left her side and had promised to 
return. 

In her heart she envied Gertrude, yea, despised 
her with a deadly hatred, but putting on an arti- 
ficial smile to suit the occasion, she said, placing 
her hand upon Gertrude’s shoulder, “ How beauti- 
ful you look this evening, Gertrude.” 

“Ah ! do you think so, Miss Schaydell ?” said 
Gertrude, coolly. 

“ I really never saw you look better. You must 
be very happy to-night with that strange gent that 
shows you so much attention.” 

“ I am,” said Gertrude, softly. 

“ I wish you would do me the favor of an intro- 
duction to him. Will you ?” 

“ Certainly, if you wish it.” 

“ I do, for I think him very intelligent.” 

“ He is.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 4 1 

“ Is he not the wealthy Mr. Morrison, from Cin- 
cinnati ?” 

“ His name is Morrison, and he is from Cincin- 
nati ; but as to his wealth, I know nothing,” replied 
Gertrude. 

“ He dances just splendidly, doesn’t he ?” said 
Fannie, with an intention of drawing from Gertie 
all the information she could. 

“ Yes, he is an excellent dancer. Not only that, 
but he converses very intelligently, and he is very 
interesting.” 

“ Does he intend remaining long, or don’t you 
know ?” inquired Fannie, still pushing her investi- 
gation. 

“ I believe he is to spend some time here. At 
least, he says he intends to if all is well,” answered 
Gertrude, with a smile. 

“ I wonder Oh ! there he comes now. You 

will introduce me to him, won’t you ?” 

Sure enough, he approached them, and as he 
drew near, with a smiling face, he remarked to Ger- 
trude, “ I have been as good as my word, you see, 
and have come back to you.” 

“ So I see,” replied Gertrude, and without further 
hesitation, said, “ Mr. Morrison, let me present you 
to Miss Schaydell.” 

This was just what the artful, scheming Fannie 
was aiming at. First, to get an introduction, and 
then to use her power of attracting him to herself, 
away from the fair and innocent Gertrude, who 


42 


LOUISA VAN BEXTHUSEN; OR, 


never dreamed of the evil genius that was at work 
in the heart of Fannie Schaydell. 

Fannie knew full well that she could easily play a 
double part with Gertrude, who would never think 
for a moment that she despised her for her personal 
beauty and attractive manners, that won this strange 
gentleman so completely to her side. 

The jealous heart is a hard thing to keep con- 
cealed, and so, without knowing it, Fannie exposed 
her motive very plainly, but it was too late then to 
undo the acquaintance. Fannie repeated to herself, 
“ I shall never stand aside and see the daughter of a 
poor dressmaker (as she supposed), receiving the 
admiration of one of the most distinguished guests 
present, while I can win him to myself” 

And so she fairly monopolized Mr. Morrison’s at- 
tention for a time with her brilliant conversation. 
She intended to keep him entertained all the evening, 
but unluckily for her another gentleman came forward 
and reminded her of her promised engagement for a 
waltz. So she was obliged to leave Mr. Morrison 
with many regrets, hoping that his attention would 
be so deeply drawn to her because of the attentive- 
ness with which he listened while she was convers- 
ing with him. She flattered herself into the belief 
that he would linger by, and so soon as the waltz 
was over, come right to her again. But in this 
thought she was mistaken. She did not make as 
favorable an impression on him as she supposed, for 
scarcely had she left him when his eyes were in 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


43 


search of some one else, and it was with the utmost 
indignation that she saw him repair to a remote 
comer of the room, where Gertrude Scrivener sat 
conversing with some others of the guests that she 
knew. But ere he reached the spot he started for, 
Louisa came up to him, saying: 

“ Well, dear Frank, how did you like Miss Schay- 
dell ? I see you were quite enraptured with her 
conversation. I was looking at you all the while, 
and I drew the conclusion that her queenly airs had 
already won my cousin’s heart.” 

“ O Louisa, dear, you are mistaken this time. I 
was not an enraptured listener, but I could not do 
otherwise than pay attention while she was drawing 
my opinions concerning this, that and the other.” 

“You see I am keeping watch over you. I can 
soon tell who is most likely to win my worthy 
cousin.” 

“ I must confess, Louisa, I really fancy the pretty 
little blue-eved maiden, that slipped so cautiously 
away from my side after presenting me to Miss 
Schaydell. I was just thinking that there was 
more tenderness in one glance from Miss Scrivener’s 
expressive eye, than all the flowery speeches that 
Miss Schaydell could make.” 

“ I am most happy to think you admire Gertrude. 
She is worthy of admiration from any noble-hearted 
gentleman.” 

“ I am very much attracted by her voice. I think 
I never heard one more sweet.” 


44 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN J OR, 

“ Somehow, Frank, she seems almost too good 
for this world. I have often looked at her and 
thought that she was not destined long to stay on 
earth. And what a gem would be missed from 
among us should she be called upon to quit her 
habitation and prepare to go over the beautiful river. 
There! just look at her now,” said Louisa, touch- 
ing Frank on the arm. 

“Beautiful,” replied he; “let’s go over where she 
is.” 

Just then the other ladies that were talking with 
Gertrude rose and went away, and then Mr. Morri- 
son quickly drew his chair close to Gertrude’s side 
and began to chat with her gaily, and now while 
they are thus engaged, just look around and see 
where Maria Underwood is. She has not been 
spoken of yet this evening. 

In the spacious drawing-room she is the centre 
of attraction. Her pleasing manner has fairly cap- 
tivated the heart of Mr. Goodes, and scarcely did he 
leave her side during the entire evening. She had 
promised to sing, and at the hour designated Louisa 
walked into the room and advanced toward Maria, 
feeling proud within her heart to have an oppor- 
tunity to display the rare musical talent and sweet 
voice of her dear friend. 

“ Come, Miss Underwood, please favor us with one 
of your pretty songs.” 

At first Maria felt a twinge of embarrassment pass 
over her. But when seated at the piano and run- 


J 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


45 


ing her fingers over the keys, it all left her and she 
sang in a voice, soft and sweet, that beautiful song: 

“ ’Tis years since last we met. 

And we may not meet again; 

I have struggled to forget, 

But the struggle was in vain ; 

For her voice lives on the breeze, 

And her spirit comes at will ; 

In the midnight on the seas, 

Her bright smile haunts me still. 

“ At the first sweet dawn of light 
When I gaze upon the deep, 

Her form still greets my sight 
While the stars their vigil keep; 

When I close my aching sight 
Sweet dreams my senses fill, 

And from sleep when I arise 
Her bright smile haunts me still, 

“ I have sailed ’neath alien skies, 

I have trod the desert path, 

I have seen the storm arise, 

Like a giant in his wrath; 

Ev’ry danger I have known 
That a reckless life can fill, 

Yet her presence is not flown, 

Her bright smile haunts me still.” 

Mr. Goodes’ deep, rich voice assisting in the 
chorus. Their voices filled the room with sweet 
melody, and drew many a compliment from the en- 
raptured listeners. 

Maria received all the praises untainted by con- 
ceit, and those that gave them knew that they were 
indeed complimenting where it was justly due; for 


V 


46 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

those that knew Maria best, felt that praise would 
not elevate her into vanity, for her mind was too 
pure and too refined to be overpowered by praise. 
And yet she valued praise very highly, but would 
not make any sacrifice to gain it. Duty seemed 
uppermost in her thoughts, and she was constantly 
striving after perfection, which fact gave her a high 
degree of refinement and grace. Time, with its 
envious wings, glides onward when the hours are 
happily spent. The elegant repast was over, and 
what a delightful evening it had been. Many hearts 
were happier that night than they had ever been 
before. Wealth and fashion, envy, hatred, jealousy, 
love and honor were all here displayed. Oh, if we 
could only see into, and read the hearts of, each of 
this multitude of friends and acquaintances, as they, 
come forward and bid adieu to the host and hostess, 
and then turn and leave their magnificent mansion! 
The pure, the innocent, the scheming and design- 
ing ones could all be pointed out, and what a vast 
study of human nature it would be. 

The lights were all extinguished except in the 
back parlor, where Mr. Morrison sat looking over a 
book of poems, but evidently more engaged with 
his thoughts than with the contents of the book, 
when Louisa entered and said : 

“ Come, Frank, you know you told me you were 
going to select yourself a wife to-night. Now which 
lady made the most favorable impression upon you.” 

“Well, well. You are questioning me rather 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


47 


closely; but I suppose I must tell the truth about 
it.” So saying he placed his hand on his heart, 
turned his eyes to the ceiling and continued, “ I — 
well — I promised to tell you and, must I ?” 

“ Oh, I see your heart is gone. I believe it was 
love at first sight. Yes, you must tell me ; that was 
in the bargain.” 

He paused a while, and Louisa reminded him 
again of his promise in the following words : “ Come 
now, my dear cousin, wasn’t it love at first sight ? 
Don’t be backward in telling me.” 

“ Well, really, Louisa, I ” — another pause. “ Well, 
I must confess to this much, that a pair of large, 
full, blue eyes, and two braids of golden-brown hair, 
together with a graceful figure and sweet voice, seem 
to be the object of my fancy.” 

“ O Frank !” said Louisa, clapping her little 
hands together, “ it is my dear friend, Gertrude. I 
knew you would fall in love with her. But for a 
time I thought the bewitching Fannie Schaydell 
was the one that stole your heart away.” 

“ Not this time, most assuredly.” v 

“ I am delighted to think you have such good 
taste. I think Gertrude is one of the sweetest dis- 
positioned young ladies I ever met. Nothing sel- 
fish or unkind about her. I knew you would like 
her.” 

“ I only hope,” said Frank, “ that I may have the 
privilege of seeing her often.” 

“You may,” replied Louisa. “I will promise 


48 


LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 


you that and more too,” added she, quite emphat- 
ically. 

“ Where do they live ?” 

“ Oh, just over there,” pointing in the right direc- 
tion, “ in the cutest little cottage you ever saw. I 
have had lots of happy times there. Why we gradu- 
ated at the same time, and have always been the 
best of friends.” 

“Are her parents living?” inquired Frank. 

“ Well, her mother is, but her father died some 
time ago. She has one brother who went away to 
New York with his uncle.” 

“We will call soon if you are willing,” said Frank. 

“ Why, of course, we will. I call very often ; but 
to change the subject, did you notice how devoted 
Mr. Goodes was to Maria Underwood?” 

“Yes, I did, and several others spoke of it.” 

Just at that moment, Mr. Goodes entered the 
room and took a seat by the centre-table, close to 
Mr. Morrison and Louisa. The latter, addressing 
him, said: 

“Mr. Goodes, I hope you enjoyed yourself this 
evening.” 

“ I did, and very much too.” 

“His heart is all broken up,” said Frank, laugh- 
ingly. 

“You have nothing to say on that subject,” re- 
plied Mr. Goodes. 

“Then we will call it even, Clarence,” said Frank, 
addressing Mr. Goodes by his given name. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 49 

“All right; I knew you would own up, after a 
while.” 

“ Well,” said Louisa, “ I must say, I admire each 
of your selections very much, and I really believe 
both of you gentlemen’s hearts are affected; but 
maybe a good night’s rest will restore you to your 
senses, so I will leave you, wishing you good- 
night and pleasant dreams.” 


4 


50 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE EXCITEMENT. 

I T was the morning after the party, and the wildest 
excitement prevailed among the rich and high in 
station, the poor and lowly, the old and young. 
The best and most experienced gossipers were at 
work at an early hour untying the string of the 
wonderful news-bag, and scattering the latest news, 
one to another. Like chaff before the wind, all over 
the city, flew hither and thither the news that Mrs. 
Scrivener, the poor dressmaker that lived on Glen- 
wood Avenue, in the little brown cottage next to 
the Balsam Valley Grove, had fallen heir to an im- 
mense fortune. 

Among hundreds of acquaintances and friends, 
and among many more who were entire strangers 
to them, the good news was told over and over 
again, and commented upon, in many ways, as to the 
exact sum that she inherited. Some increased the 
amount, others diminished the same. It was put 
at all figures but the right one, and each person 
felt that they were the ones that knew the true 
amount. Some were loud in their exclamations of 
praise, while others were quite the reverse. Some 
were contriving ways and means in which they might 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


51 


be brought into acquaintance with them, knowing 
that in the near future their home would be one of 
the most popular in the city; and they thought, 
with swimming brains, of the grand parties and re- 
ceptions that would surely come in time, and that 
an early-formed acquaintance would be the best 
and surest way to favor. Others made arrange- 
ments to call upon her and congratulate her on her 
good fortune, while many more said they would 
make no advances and would refuse to recognize 
them until they met them first in society. Another 
group proposed making parties and thus bring the 
beautiful Gertrude before the world as a belle. All 
kinds of plans and devices were made, some to ele- 
vate, others to reject; but the hearts of the few, 
true, intimate friends of Mrs. Scrivener, who had 
clung to her through all her long, severe struggle 
for the past few years of ill-fortune, knew that there 
was none more capable, none more worthy of fill- 
ing the ranks of society; none that knew more 
correctly all points of decorum, and none better 
constituted to be a leader in the most refined society, 
than she. 

Oh, the human heart ! what a stubborn thing it is 
to control! within its silent chambers rest many 
hidden secrets. What a study! What a power! 
the influences may be either crushing or elevating, 
harsh or tender. None can tell of the deadly hate 
or the base aims that lurk within its deepest depths, 
and prompt the jealous heart to accomplish its plots. 


52 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


“And she is the charming young lady that cre- 
ated such a sensation at the party the other even- 
ing, whose mother has been made so wealthy?” 
said Mrs. Hazelton, while calling at Mrs. Schay- 
dell’s. 

“Yes, I understand she has had a little money 
left to her. As for her daughter, she never ap- 
peared in company before, that I know of, and she 
is considered so beautiful by a great many, because 
she is something new. ‘A new broom always sweeps 
clean.’ You know she will take for a while, 
especially among the gentlemen. They are so 
easily attracted by a little beauty, but my word for 
it, her career will not be of long duration.” 

“ She will evidently become quite a belle in so- 
ciety, now that she is so very wealthy. You know 
that as soon as a person gets up in fortune, and 
especially if they are anyways attractive at all, 
they will rage for a time,” said Mrs. Hazelton. 

“ Oh, mercy ! What is a few thousand dollars 
toward making a belle when there are so many 
wealthy people that far surpass that sum. And 
these are nothing at all in company, or anywhere 
else,” replied Fannie, sneeringly. 

“ But, Miss Fannie, it is not a small sum that they 
possess, but something like a hundred thousand 
dollars, at least. Judge Wetherspoon told Mr. 
Hazelton so, and the Judge and his family have 
always been on very agreeable terms with Mrs. 
Scrivener and her family, both before and since 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 53 

their misfortunes, and they even visit them in their 
poor cottage.” 

“ Can it be possible !” exclaimed Fannie and 
her mother, almost in the same breath. 

“It beats everything I ever heard,” rejoined Mrs. 
Schaydell. 

“ What in the name of common sense will happen 
next, I wonder ?” added Fannie. 

“ The story is perfectly reliable,” said Mrs. Hazel- 
ton, “ and I am bound to believe that the day will 
yet come when we will see them settled in a mansion 
equal in elegance to any of ours. I am not at all 
acquainted with the lady myself, but I ’have heard 
Mrs. Van Benthusen and Senator Schemerhorn’s 
wife, and several other noted people that knew her 
in days gone by, speak of her in the most glowing 
terms.” 

“ What is our society coming to ?” groaned Mrs. 
Schaydell. 

“Oh, dear,” sighed Fannie. 

“ I should think that on account of school friend- 
ships, you would like to help stimulate the introduc- 
ing of Miss Gertrude into young company. It 
would be real nice to have a little party and invite 
her, and you would be one to do that with pro- 
priety.” 

“ Goodness, me ! She would wait a long time to 
get invited here. She and I were never very partial 
to each other.” 

“ I don’t think Miss Gertrude is one to speak ill 


54 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

of any one, Fannie, and I infer from what Louisa Van 
Benthusen says, that she speaks of you as the queen 
of society.” 

“ Ha ! ha !” laughed Fannie. “ She praise me ! 
If that does not beat all ! Well, I am glad she 
thinks so much of me.” 

After Mrs. Hazelton had gone, Fannie hastily 
retired to her room, and standing before the mas- 
sive mirror, she said to herself, as she gazed upon 
her fine form and features, “ I shall try and win Mr. 
Morrison yet to my side, if it is a possible thing. 
If it can be done, I can do it. Fail I will not; for 
I shall attract, and entertain him at every possible 
chance, so that he cannot resist my attention. Some- 
how I feel a wonderful strange attachment for him, 
and I am determined to bring him to my feet. He 
is wealthy, and leads such a high life in accordance 
with his position, that he is just the one I want. I 
will not — I shall not fail ! I never have yet when 
fully determined upon any scheme that my heart 
had set its seal to ; and I will succeed in this ! How 
I felt like crushing that Gertrude Scrivener out of 
existence, when I saw Mr. Morrison cast such 
admiring glances upon her ! When I saw how 
earnestly he showered his devotion upon her, from 
that moment I resolved within my heart to draw 
him from her. If she dares to attempt to come in 
between me and my wishes, I will crush her to the 
earth forever! Oh, dear! What an unruly member 
my heart is ; always striving to get that which is 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


55 


beyond my reach. Even my strong will, that is 
under perfect control, I will bend, yes, break, if I 
must, to accomplish my desire ; and even though 
she is the possessor of a fortune that exceeds mine, 
she must not step into my path, or the demon that 
slumbers within my breast will arise, and with the 
fiendish power of a madman, I will destroy her as 
I would an insect that creeps on the ground !” 

Fannie had a fine education and many fascinating 
ways, but her mind was poisoned by evil thoughts, 
and as she grew in years her disposition grew more 
and more morbid ; so much so, that she was very 
frequently disagreeable with those that she was 
brought in daily contact with. 

While she was thus designing and planning what 
way she should first try to win Mr. Morrison, her 
mother entered the room and said, “ Fannie, I pro- 
pose that we give a dinner-party within a few days, 
and thus enable you to charm the elegant Mr. Mor- 
rison.” 

“O mother! that is just the very idea. How 
stupid I was not to think of that ! It will work like 
a charm,” continued Fannie. 

“ I was wondering how you could meet him again 
soon, and I knew of nothing more favorable than 
a dinner-party to perfect your desires.” 

“ There is one thing certain,” said Fannie, with 
vehemence, “ Gertrude Scrivener cannot be admitted 
to my home, and then the coast will be clear. Any 
poor, silly creature like she could make an impres- 


56 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

sion with good effect with the aid of a little money, 
a milliner, and a mother a dressmaker, to fit her 
out. I should hate to have people say of me that I 
was as pretty as a picture, and all that nonsense, but 
I didn’t know much. I must say, I don’t think 
much of such doll-baby beauty, anyway.” 

In conversation, Fannie Schaydell certainly could 
not be equaled. It was her study, her point and 
aim, and win she must. She knew of no better 
means by which over a sumptuous meal she could 
display her intellect on all topics of ancient and 
modern history. 

“ We will order the carriage at once,” she hur- 
riedly said to her mother, “ and go to Goldsmith’s 
about the invitations. It is my request that only 
the most distinguished families be invited.” 

“Just as you choose, Fannie,” said her mother. 
“You know best what you wish, and everything 
shall be done accordingly.” 

A particular feature at Mrs. Schay dell’s dinner- 
parties was the elegance and abundance of rich and 
rare food, served in the most costly manner ; and it 
was very seldom that ever they received the regrets 
of their invited guests. 

The carriage is at the door; and now while Mrs. 
Schaydell and her daughter are out making the 
necessary arrangements for their proposed dinner- 
party, we will glance around and see what has be- 
come of Louisa Van Benthusen and her guests. 

In a cozy little parlor, seated around a bright coal 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


5 7 


fire, might have been seen Louisa and her cousin 
Mr. Morrison, Miss Underwood and Mr. Goodes, 
all evidently deeply interested and happy in the 
company of Mrs. Scrivener and her daughter. 

The room contained no very great attraction as 
to furniture and ornament, but the cultivated minds 
of the occupants were more attractive than the 
grandeur of a palace. Even though their means 
would now allow them to occupy a stately mansion 
equal in elegance to many in the city about them, 
yet they were so perfectly happy in their little brown 
cottage home that they did not intend to make any 
change before the coming of the spring-time. Then 
it was her brother’s wish that she should purchase 
a handsome residence and furnish it in style, and 
live in a manner suitable to her capabilities ; and 
thus enable Gertrude to become a belle in the highest 
circles of society. 

For hours not a few, this happy gathering of 
friends chatted, seeming perfectly delighted in each 
other’s presence ; talking over the previous evening’s 
pleasures and making plans for future enjoyments, 
such as sleighing-parties, providing sufficient snow 
fell to admit of such pleasure, surprise-parties to 
some of the kind-hearted friends that lived in the 
country, cribbage and whist-parties, followed by 
oyster-suppers, dancing and so forth. Thus the 
afternoon passed away, and it came time to say 
their usual an revoir , and take their departure. 

As soon as they reached their own luxuriantly- 


58 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


furnished home and sat down in the library, they 
began conversing, when Mr. Goodes entered the 
room with Mrs. Van Benthusen and sat down op- 
posite Louisa and her cousin. At length, after a 
long silence, Frank said: 

“ Clarence,” addressing Mr. Goodes, “ I believe 
we will see you return to Cincinnati ere long with 
an accomplished wife leaning on your arm.” 

“Well, Frank,” replied Clarence, “ I don’t know, 
but that I may; but it strikes me that my friend, 
Frank Morrison, will not return alone, either.” 

“ But you will not, I bet,” answered Frank. 

“ You may be right, for I believe I have lost my 
heart, this time, sure. I always prided myself on 
being proof against love, but — I — must confess, I 
think I am captured at last.” 

“ Glad to hear it — nothing like owning up to the 
truth.” 

“ As long as I am not the only one, I guess I can 
stand teasing.” 

“ It is nothing to feel ashamed of, Mr. Goodes,” 
replied Mrs. Van Benthusen. “ If every young man 
was as honest to acknowledge it as you are, there 
would not be so many broken-hearted people as 
there are. Most young men gain the love of a 
beautiful girl only to trifle with her heart and then 
dash it from them, as a child would a once-coveted 
toy of which it has grown weary.” 

“ I really think I never met a finer young lady 
than Miss Underwood,” responded Mr. Goodes. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


59 


“ She is lovely,” said Louisa. 

“ That is a fact,” said Frank. 

“ I am sure I admire your taste,” added Louisa, 
“ for Maria has a fine education, and she is such a 
lovely singer. I thought her voice would charm 
you. And here is Cousin Frank,” continued she, 
placing her hand upon his arm, “ completely capti- 
vated with Miss Scrivener, and a brilliant young 
lady she is, too. Did I not tell you that I had two 
charming lady friends ? I only wish you could have 
# met Gertrude Scrivener’s brother Charlie. I am 
so sorry he is away.” And the tell-tale flush came 
to her cheek as she continued saying, “ He is just 
as good and kind as he can be.” 

“ Maybe he is the young gent,” said Frank, “that 
has stolen the heart of my darling cousin. Ah, me ! 
But he would get a prize. He ought to be every- 
thing that was good and lovely, and I have no doubt 
that he is.” 

“I agree with you, Frank,” said Mr. Goodes. 

“He is all of that, Frank, and let me thank 
you, Mr. Goodes, for your kind estimation of 
my worth,” replied Louisa. “ I think a great deal 
of him, for we have played together since child- 
hood, but we are only firm, true friends, nothing 
more.” 

“ We will have many pleasant visits I hope at the 
homes of our new-formed friends, ere we return to 
Cincinnati,” said Frank to Clarence, and, added he, 
“ I will make a private call to-morrow, if my cousin,” 


6o 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


just then glancing at Louisia with a smile, “has no 
objections.” 

“I am perfectly willing,” replied Louisa. 

“Then I will follow Frank’s plan and make an- 
other.” 

“You may. I would only be too happy to have 
you pay them a friendly visit,” said Louisa. 

“And so would I,” broke in Mr. Van Benthusen, 
as he opened the door and stood before them. At 
the same moment a servant entered from the opposite 
side and announced tea. Thus the conversation 
was drawn to a rather abrupt close, as they gathered 
around the board for the evening meal. 

The following day, while Mr. Morrison and Mr. 
Goodes were out making their previously-planned 
calls, the door-bell rang and a servant brought in 
the cards of Mrs. Schaydell and her daughter, ac- 
companied by invitations to the family, including 
Mr. Morrison and Mr. Goodes, to a dinner-party, to 
be given the following afternoon, at the elegant resi- 
dence of Mrs. Schaydell. 

At once preparations were under way, and at five 
o’clock the next day, the guests had all arrived, and 
were seated in the brilliantly-lighted parlors which 
were magnificently furnished. 

Fannie appeared in a costly black velvet robe, 
ornamented with scarlet winter-berries. Her tall, 
graceful figure gave her a very commanding air as 
she received her guests in a manner that made each 
one feel as though he, or she were particularly 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


6 1 


honored. Her one object was to make an impres- 
sion upon Mr. Morrison. She knew full well that 
he must, even as a necessity, pay her due homage 
as a guest in her own beautiful home; so in con- 
formity to her contrived plan, she engaged him in 
conversation, thus drawing his attention, first to 
one object of interest and then to another, until 
long before the evening was over she detected that 
he really began to feel that an influence of fasci- 
nation was coming over him, and much as he tried 
to recover from this spell he could not, and he sat 
perfectly enraptured with her sweet voice and be- 
witching glances. 

Every now and then his mind wandered to the 
little brown cottage where a short time ago he was 
sitting by the side of Gertrude Scrivener, whose 
blue eyes looked into his own with such a sweetly 
sad expression, and spoke to him in such a tender, 
confiding voice. Can it be that he is now charmed 
by the tall, graceful lady by his side? 

After exhausting many topics of the times, 
Fannie invited him to play a game of cribbage, his 
favorite game, to which he agreed. Fannie was an 
excellent player and they became very much in- 
terested. As they were about completing the third 
game, she invited him to call the next afternoon 
and play, to which he readily assented. This gave 
her ground to feel that her object was accomplished, 
for her eyes glittered with triumph as she thought 
that now she had struck the very method in which 


62 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


she could appropriate a good share of his time 
and attention. With this feeling she was satisfied 
and cared for naught else. 

Mr. Goodes lingered by the side of Maria Under- 
wood, whose charming voice had entertained a large 
number of the guests all through the later portion 
of the evening. After many gay hours had slipped 
away, the time came to retire from this evening of 
pleasure, and on the way home, Louisa said, “ Frank, 
I fear that the brilliant Fannie has fascinated you, 
this evening, surely.” 

Feeling a little ashamed to own the bewildered 
state of his mind, he finally, after a slight pause, re- 
plied : 

“ No, no, my dear cousin, I am not in love, but 
terribly perplexed. I believe I am lost in my own 
shadows. Of course I must pay Miss Schaydell 
the honor of courtesies at her own reception. But I 
am sorry I ever met her. I feel strange about the ac- 
quaintance, and yet, as I listened to her remarks, I 
could not help feeling interested, but when she 
looked at me as though she would look me through 
and read my very thoughts, it seemed to me as if 
some evil genius was at work within her mind and, 
somehow, I recoiled from her then as I would from 
a serpent. And then, again, I was thoroughly 
charmed by her appearance and manner.” 

“Why, Frank, I infer from your remarks that 
you think she has in her mind some purpose that 
she is anxious to fulfill.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


63 


“ Yes, that is exactly what I do think.” 

“What could it be, I wonder? nothing concern- 
ing you, surely, is it ?” replied Louisa, very earn- 
estly, as she looked into his face and could see an 
embarrassed expression on his countenance. 

“ I think it is all relating to me.” 

“ To you, Frank ?” 

“ Yes, I judged from remarks that she made she 
is designing some evil, and when I inquired for Miss 
Scrivener, she said, ‘ she was not usually invited in 
our circle.’ From that, I judged at once that she 
had been left out for some purpose.” 

“ Do you really think it was a contrived plan to 
slight her ?” 

“ I do.” 

“ Why ?” 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ Jealousy, I suppose, is the cause.” 

“ Such conspiracy, if I find it out, fares very 
poorly with me. Many a plotted game against the 
innocent-hearted has more often proven disastrous to 
the originator, and if I remain long enough in the 
city, I will see that such is the case. We little know 
what moment an evil heart is at work striving to 
wreck the happiness of the pure and innocent. But 
God deals punishment to the sinful, even though 
they may prosper in some things.” 


6 4 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


CHAPTER V. 

CAUTION AGAINST EVIL WORKERS. 

OUISA, unlike most of her companions, never 



1 j wasted her time in indolence, although in her 
own quiet way she enjoyed and indulged herself 
whenever opportunity afforded. She made a prac- 
tice of rising very early every morning, and the 
time that most of her young lady friends and ac- 
quaintances wasted in sleep, she employed in read- 
ing some interesting book, practicing her music, 
drawing or painting. She did much of visiting 
among the poor people of the neighborhood, doing 
for them various little acts of kindness which would 
cheer and comfort them as they toiled on from day 
to day, fulfilling their quiet missions, only to return 
the next day and do the same work over and over 
again, to keep the grim assailant, want, from the 
door of their humble abodes. 

She had tried to follow the advice of her mother 
as nearly as possible in thus visiting now and then 
among the poor and the lowly, making them little 
presents of clothing or groceries accordingly, as was 
most needed. She always accompanied these gifts 
with words of encouragement and affection, which 
would make the gifts seem worth even more than 
their real value. Her quick step and soft, sweet 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


65 

voice were welcome sounds to those that ofttimes 
listened for their coming; and her name was 
mingled with the evening prayers from the heart of 
many a care-worn mother who toiled on, day after 
day, taking but little rest as she plodded onward over 
the rough and tangled road of life. 

The morning was clear and cold and the air in- 
vigorating. Louisa had just returned from a visit 
to a poor family that lived but a short distance from 
her home, when her cousin met her at the door, 
evidently quite surprised to see that she had been 
out and returned so early. 

“ Well, well,” said he, “ can it be that you are out 
at this early hour ? Why, I supposed that you were 
as yet quietly slumbering and dreaming of the 
fairies, this fine morning.” 

“ I have been out for an hour. This air is very 
bracing.” 

“ I imagine so, from the rose-tint on your cheeks. 
I would like to have taken a walk, myself, before 
breakfast.” 

“ You don’t know what a grand appetite I have, 
and suppose we go at once to breakfast. I heard 
the bell just as I was coming in the gate, and I do 
not like to keep the servants waiting, for they have 
so much to do. I know they want some rest as 
well as any one else.” 

“ That is very true, Louisa, but very few are as 
considerate about the feelings of their help as you 
are.” 


5 


66 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


“ I know it; but somehow I like them and, if kind- 
ness will be of any benefit to them, they are welcome 
to it from me. Why, any of the servants will run 
and do anything for me that I ask.” 

“I wonder who wouldn’t?” said her cousin. 

“Perhaps there are many; for some people know 
not the value of kind words.” 

After the morning meal was over, Frank remarked 
to his cousin that he would like to go to the Opera 
House and hear the Debates; and, as he did not wish 
to go alone, he asked her if she would not accom- 
pany him. A moment’s thought, and she decided 
to go, and at once made preparation. 

An hour later found them seated in the dress cir- 
cle, which was filled with the most fashionable peo- 
ple in the city. He was very anxious to hear the 
Debates, but, unfortunately, he occupied a chair next 
to Fannie Schaydell, who was in her very element, 
for she wished to show him that, besides the frivoli- 
ties of fashionable chat, she could talk as familiarly 
on serious subjects as though she had prepared her- 
self previously for the occasion. He listened to all 
she had to say with marked politeness and attention, 
which made her think she had impressed him more 
favorably than ever, and that it only required time 
to reach the climax of her plans. 

The exercises passed away very unsatisfactory to 
Mr. Morrison, who had looked forward to them as 
a great pleasure. But he was, like many others, 
disappointed and vexed when his expectations were 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


67 


unrealized. However, time brought the exercises to 
a close, and the gay crowd was slowly moving from 
the scene. Louisa and her cousin were among the 
first to get out into the cool air, and to turn their 
footsteps homeward. While on their way, Louisa 
told Frank she thought he paid more attention to 
Fannie Schaydell than he did to the speakers; 
whereupon he replied: 

“ I was disappointed. I was so anxious to hear 
every word of the Debates; but she laid siege upon 
my attention in such a manner, that, had it not 
been for treating her impolitely, and causing re- 
marks from those near that would necessarily 
notice it, I would have gladly changed my seat. 
But such an act would have been an outrage on good 
manners, and I was forced to sit still and listen to 
all her remarks and catch what little else I could 
hear between.” 

“ I am sorry ; for it is very unpleasant to be dis- 
turbed when interested in what is going on. But 
that is a noted feature of Fannie at entertainments 
of that sort.” 

“ Then it is a very unpleasant feature of her 
make-up, and one I do not admire. If ladies go 
there to display their finery and gain admiration, or 
to get a smile or a beau, or to have a visit with this 
friend and the other, and to make the place one of 
social gathering merely, my opinion is that the best 
place for such ladies is at home. Their places in 
public should be filled with people that are inter- 


68 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


ested in what the speakers say, and who go for the 
purpose of listening. If they want to visit, why 
don’t they wait until the exercises are over ? Then 
there will be time enough.” 

“ I agree with you, Frank, for there is nothing 
more annoying than to sit next to a person that is 
constantly claiming your attention.” 

“ I am glad your good sense teaches you how to 
conduct yourself becomingly in an assembly. Y our 
opinion is with mine. I was greatly disturbed this 
morning and had I known that such would have 
been the case, I certainly should not have gone there 
at all.” 

“ Some gentlemen would have felt highly compli- 
mented and honored to have had such a stylish 
appearing and brilliant conversationalist as Fannie 
sit next to them and take so much pains to interest 
them.” 

“ I know it ; she is beautiful and brilliant, but 
when she looks into my face there is an expression 
in those gray eyes of hers that I cannot fathom. 
There lies within their depths some evil that seems 
to warn me to be on my guard ; and yet, her conver- 
sation interests me more than I can tell. I love to 
listen to her and to mark her fine use of words, as 
they flow so smoothly from her lips. I can’t help 
admiring her, and yet I don’t like her very much.” 

“You make me laugh, Frank. I believe yours 
is a superstitious fascination. You are in love with 
her and you don’t know it.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 69 

“ No, I am not in love with her. Neither am I 
superstitious or fascinated.” 

“ What are you then ?” 

“ I give it up.” 

“ Well, you say you are interested and yet you 
are not; and then you say you think she is planning 
some witchery.” 

“ I admit I am interested in her somewhat, but 
nothing serious.” 

“ Well, then, if you are interested, why do you 
think she has evil working in her heart?” 

“ I don’t know. It possibly may be all imagina- 
tion, but I don’t believe it is. I think it was first 
caused by my attention to Miss Scrivener, the even- 
ing of your party.” 

“ Do you really think so, Frank ?” 

“ I do.” 

“ Did you notice any indications then ?” 

“ I did.” 

“ What were they?” 

“ Simply remarks about people not used to so- 
ciety, and numberless hints as though she meant 
Gertrude.” 

“ Why did you not tell me this before ?” inquired 
Louisa, very seriously. 

“ I never really suspected that it was Gertrude 
that she meant until to-day; but it is easy enough 
explained. You see these two young ladies are of 
entirely different natures. Where one is reserved, 
the other is just the opposite. One striving to win. 


yo LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

while the other stands aside and lets nature take its 
own course.” 

“ I don’t believe you understand one or the other 
of them, Frank.” 

“ Oh, yes, I do. I can read human nature pretty 
fairly. But Fannie is so different from Gertrude. 
That you know. When I am in Gertrude’s pres- 
ence, it seems as if some gentle influence governed 
my spirit ; I linger by her side with that tender affec- 
tion, as though I could enshrine her within my heart 
forever. But when in Fannie’s company, I cannot feel 
that way. „ In fact, I cannot describe my feelings ex- 
actly. She keeps me spell-bound with her eloquence, 
and yet I emphatically say that I don’t like her.” 

“ Now, my dear cousin, let me make a suggestion : 
if you have such tender feelings toward Gertrude 
as those, I warn you to be watchful. Take heed, 
for Fannie Schaydell, let me tell you, is no friend 
to Gertrude. In fact, she is more of an enemy.” 

“ Oh, yes, Louisa. But you are mistaken, some- 
what, I think. Fannie is jealous of her, but I think 
in her heart she likes her. You ought to have 
heard her speak of her beauty, and say how glad 
she would be when Gertrude could be brought into 
society, for she was rather brilliant in many things. 
Why, dear cousin, even you could not have spoken 
more glowingly of her.” 

Louisa, at this, burst forth into a merry peal of 
laughter, and said, “ I have heard her make such 
glowing speeches before.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


71 


“Don’t be too harsh in your judgment.” 

“ I don’t intend to. I would not injure any person 
in the world. But she is a thorough fraud. I know 
her too well to put any dependence in her remarks, 
as coming from her heart’s affection. There is no 
affection about her; even her manner is cold and 
hard. Talk about heart, she has none. If she had, 
there is no warmth of love in it.” 

“ I believe you on that point ; but it may be she 
means to do right.” 

“ She is as sly as a fox. I know her of old. She 
praises when she is only doing it to deepen the injury 
that she means to inflict by and by. She can read 
hearts as easily as some people can read books; and 
she knows full well that you would only turn a deaf 
ear to any other speeches than those of praise. She 
knows what she is about, and she has taken that 
method, so that after a while she can comment on 
and point out little faults that Gertrude may have, 
and, by speaking of them in an unconcerned, pleas- 
ant manner, it would only make them appear greater 
than they really are.” 

“ Gertrude has no faults that I can see,” said he. 

“ But she will make you see faults.” 

“ She cannot make me see any faults when there 
are none.” 

“But she will.” 

“ She cannot. Gertrude is too gentle and loving.” 

“Ah ! Frank, I say, beware. Many a strong-minded 
man has been turned from his will without realizing 


72 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


his danger until it was too late to turn back. 
Fannie is as wily as an arch-fiend, and she will, if 
she once gets you into her power, make you turn 
from your opinion of Gertrude, in spite of yourself.” 

“No, never.” 

“She can do it.” 

“ She will not dare to do so, for I have told her 
with what esteem I regarded Gertrude ; and I am sure 
she would not do anything so unladylike as that.” 

“Then, if you have told her that you held Ger- 
trude in high esteem, she will try all the more to 
break up your association with her.” 

“ I won’t allow it.” 

“ Maybe you think so, but be careful.” 

“There is no danger.” 

“ I am afraid if you continue cultivating her friend- 
ship, you will see it too late.” 

“ Never.” 

“ Let us wait and we will see.” 

“ Very well.” 

“ I am willing,” said Louisa. 

“ So am I,” responded Frank. 

“ Perhaps our conversation of this morning may 
be brought to mind at some distant day in the future. 
I have spoken to you in this way, because I know 
that Fannie is determined to mention your name as 
one of her many admirers. I have often heard the 
remark made, that when once she sets her mind on 
an object to accomplish, she never fails; and I 
know it to be so.” ' 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


7 3 


“ Surely, my dear cousin, you are not jealous be- 
cause she can captivate the most learned and noted 
gentlemen, as well as the less attractive, such as my- 
self?” 

“No, Frank, I am not in the least jealous. I 
have no desire whatever to win admiration from the 
gay crowd of people that flood our city ; or to make 
conquests of the distinguished gentlemen that are 
introduced into our society from foreign lands. I 
only care for one noble-hearted and loving com- 
panion of my childhood, and he is far away at 
present.” 

“ It occurs to me that all the ladies in this city 
think of nothing except what they can wear to 
eclipse their associates in dress ; and it seems to 
me, also, that their constant aim is to be admired by 
the gentlemen and see how many conquests they 
can make, and then to boast about them. I will 
not judge too harshly, but will wait until the season 
is over and then say what I think.” 

Just then arriving at the avenue where Mrs. 
Scrivener resided, Louisa broke the conversation 
abruptly without further reply to her cousin’s re- 
marks, and asked Frank if he would like to make 
a short call upon Gertrude, as there was a whole 
hour before it was time to dine. On account of 
Col. Hunter and his lady coming on the early after- 
noon train, dinner would not be served until three. 
Mr. Goodes and Maria Underwood were out enjoy- 
ing the fine sleighing too, and they would not re- 


74 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

turn for half an hour yet ; so a call upon Gertrude 
would fill up the time that would lapse between, 
and be very enjoyable besides. 

“ I will be most happy to go,” replied her cousin, 
and so they walked on. 

In a few moments they were welcomed, not only 
by Gertrude and her mother, but also by Charlie. 
He and his uncle had just returned from New York, 
and such a hand-shaking and chatting as there was, 
for a time, one could scarcely understand what was 
said. The trip to New York had been, indeed, a pleas- 
ant one, and all was tranquil as a summer day, until 
Charlie arose and walked over to where Louisa was 
and sat down upon the tete-a-tete close by her side. 
He then told her that he had decided, instead of ac- 
cepting the High School offer, to go west as far as 
Minnesota, in company with his uncle, and there 
enter into business for himself. Here, he felt con- 
fident he would succeed, provided he used every 
effort that lay in his power. 

Louisa’s heart sank within her for a moment, and 
it was a severe trial to keep back the tear-drops 
that were gathering in her eyes ; but fearing that 
her feelings might be discernable by others beside 
Charlie, her proud spirit held its own and she re- 
marked in answer, speaking very deliberately, but 
in a low voice : 

“ I know you will do well. I am sure of it. You 
have my best wishes for success. You deserve it.” 
She paused for a moment, as if to gather courage, 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


7 5 

and finally said : “ I hope you will not forget us 

all and stay away altogether.” 

“ I shall never forget you, Louisa, any way. I 
will, of course, return some day, but I cannot tell 
when. Not for a long time, though.” 

“ When are you going ?” 

“We intended going this evening, but we con- 
cluded to wait and take a fresh start in the morn- 
ing, and besides — ” 

“And you were going away,” broke in Louisa, 
“ without even coming to say ‘good-bye’ to me.” 

“ Oh, no. I was just making preparations to call 
and tell you all about it, when Gertrude happened 
to look out the window and saw you and your 
cousin coming down the avenue.” 

“ Oh !” 

“ Do you think I would go away without bidding 
you good-bye ? Why I would as soon forget to 
breathe. Friendships like ours are not easily forgot- 
ten.” 

“ I thought you would.” 

“ Well, I would not have done so under any cir- 
cumstances. It was more that than any other 
reason, why we do not go this evening.” 

“ Thanks!” 

“ I suppose you will not forget me while I am 
away. Will you ?” 

“ That depends,” said Louisa, roguishly. 

“ Upon what ?” asked Charlie. 

“ Whether you want me to or not.” 


76 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“ Then you will think of me, will you ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Are you sure?” 

“ I am sure, and I will think of you often.” 

“ Will you promise me that ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Good .”. 

“You have not told me yet what business you 
were going into, or don’t you know, yourself, yet ? 
You are capable of undertaking and making a suc- 
cess of almost any kind.” 

“ Thank you, Louisa, for your compliments. I 
was thinking of editing a paper.” 

“That will be splendid. You will send me one 
now and then ?” 

“ If you wish me to.” 

“ I do.” 

“ Well, then, your wish shall be realized.” 

“ I will read it with pleasure,” said Louisa, as she 
looked into his face with a bewitching smile, but 
turning her gaze suddenly around and noticing that 
the hands on the little cuckoo clock that stood on 
a pretty carved bracket on the opposite side of the 
room was about to strike three, she arose, hastily, 
saying: “Come, Cousin Frank, we must be going, 
now. The time has passed away so pleasantly, I 
can scarcely realize where it has flown. It don’t 
seem as if we had been here half that time, but I 
was so interested that I was perfectly regardless of 
the time. I fear that dinner will be awaiting us.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 77 

At that Mrs. Scrivener assured Louisa that the 
clock was at least twenty minutes fast. 

As they arose to go, Louisa invited the family to 
spend the evening with them at her home, and she 
would invite one or two other intimate friends and 
they would try and have a nice, quiet visit. The 
invitation was duly accepted and then she and her 
cousin withdrew, reaching home just in time to 
greet their distinguished guests and rest a few 
minutes before dinner was announced. 


78 


LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE PROPOSALS. 

T he scene of this chapter is a proud, stately- 
looking, brick mansion, surrounded by extensive 
grounds, with evergreens trimmed in various shapes 
and quite liberally scattered here and there, all of 
them sprinkled and spotted with the white, winter 
blossoms of a recent fall of snow. The whole scene 
in the bright moonlight was of a very picturesque 
appearance. A bright light gleamed from the win- 
dows of the west wing. A death-like stillness per- 
vaded the air. Mr. Goodes could not help feeling a 
peculiar, sad sensation creep over him, as he walked 
up the broad and long stone pavement that led to 
the door of Maria Underwood’s beautiful home. 

A servant admitted him and he soon was seated 
in a large, luxuriantly-furnished room with different 
designs of costly velvet and satin-cushioned furni- 
ture. Resting upon low marble slabs at either end 
of the room were large mirrors that extended to 
the ceiling. Heavy crimson satin curtains were 
gracefully looped back with braided bands of golden 
cord. At one side, a bright, shining grate held a 
bed of glowing coals, before which lay stretched 
out at full length a fine, jet-black cat that did not 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 79 

move, so unconcerned was it of his presence in 
the room. 

While he was contemplating the beauties of 
the apartment, Maria entered, attired in a lovely, 
claret-colored silk, with long, trailing skirt and no 
ornament, save the profusion of white lace about 
the neck, fastened by a small pearl pin in the shape 
of an anchor. Her face was wreathed in smiles as 
she advanced and extended her dainty hand, wel- 
coming him to her home, and saying, as she looked 
up into his face, “ Clarence, this is a very agreeable 
surprise. I am really quite delighted to see you. 
In fact, I was just a few moments ago thinking 
about you and how much I should miss you after 
you are gone.” 

“ I am extremely glad to hear that you will not 
forget me, then,” replied Clarence. 

“ Oh, no ! I could not forget you for you have 
been the means of making my winter thus far a 
most happy one.” 

“ I am thankful for that. I only wish I could 
remain longer. But business calls me back to 
my home sooner than I expected and I must 

go-” 

“ I ^m sure I would be delighted to have the 
pleasure of your society during the entire season,” 
answered Maria, as she rose from where she sat and 
said, “ Come, Clarence, do take this easy chair,” at 
at the same time rolling a large and more comfort- 
able one than he then occupied, before him. “ Make 


8o 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


yourself perfectly at home, for we all need comforts 
in this world.” 

“ I am sure we do. What a lovely home you 
have, Maria.” 

“ Yes, I appreciate it; and I have always been so 
very happy in it. There has never during the 
period of my existence been anything to cause me 
regrets or bitterness ; and it seems as if every bless- 
ing had been showered down upon me. Scattered 
about my pathway are many luxuries wherewith to 
make me happy and contented, and I am so.” 

“ That remark sounds strange,” said Clarence, 
“ for I seldom hear any one say they are contented 
and seem to be so thoroughly happy as you are. I 
really wish that I might have that to say.” 

“ Why, Clarence, are you not happy ?” 

“ I cannot say that I am,” replied he, in a rather 
wistful manner. 

“I do not see why!” 

“ That is the trouble. There is none that can see 
why, for I have all the comforts this world can afford; 
yet I am far from being happy and contented.” 

“What seems to be the difficulty?” inquired 
Maria, becoming quite interested. 

“Do you want me to tell you?” 

“Why, certainly; I really would like to know, for 
it seems so strange for you to say that, and I cannot 
see how a gentleman, like yourself, with ability and 
high social standing, could be other than happy.” 

“Well,” said he, at the same time drawing his 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


81 


chair closer to her side, “if I knew one thing — ” 
then he paused and repeated again, “ If I knew — ” 

“What?” interrupted Maria, as she turned and 
gazed with such a bewildered look into his face; and 
then, as quick as thought, began to smile as if intent 
on some jest. 

“ Come, now,” said she. “ Don’t be afraid to tell 
me. I presume that you have some lovely Cincin- 
nati lady that you are deeply in love with and — ” 

“ Do not say so, Maria, you ought to know better.” 

“Why should I know better? Pray tell?” 

“You should.” 

“Please tell me why?” 

“ Because you ought to know that it is yourself 
that I love better than life; and if I was convinced 
that you could or would return my affection, I would 
be perfectly happy.” 

The color rose deeply on Maria’s cheek for a 
moment, then faded away, and she turned as white 
as 'the marble statue that stood on the corner near 
by. As soon as she recovered sufficiently from the 
surprise that Clarence’s remarks had given her, and 
from the words that she had so little expected to 
hear from him, she said : 

“ Do you think that my love for you would be the 
means of making you happy?”, 

“ I do not think so. I know that it would, for I 
never met a lady who suited me so completely, with- 
out any exception, as you do; and I have traveled 
from East to West from North to South; have been 
6 


82 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


to Washington and other gay cities, and to all the 
most stylish watering-places, and have met hundreds 
of beautiful and accomplished ladies from all parts 
of the country, but of them all, you are the only one 
whom I ever met that I really love. Tis not an 
infatuation, but an earnest, devoted affection. Come, 
now, Maria, will you tell me if you will some day 
be my wife? I should be so proud to introduce you 
to all my friends.” 

For a long time they sat in silence, until finally 
Clarence said : 

“You have not answered me yet, Maria. Tell 
me, do you love me?” 

“ I guess so,” said she, as she looked very intently 
into the burning coal -fire. At that moment he took 
her delicate little hand into his own, and looking 
into her face, from which the smiles had all died 
away, and had given place to a most serious ex- 
pression, as if she were looking into the dim future, 
and were deeply thinking, he said : 

“Will you promise me, Maria?” 

“I — ” 

“ Don’t keep me waiting, please. Just say, ‘ Yes 
and that is all I will ask,” persisted Clarence. 

Still no answer; and a long silence came in be- 
tween. Finally, he put the question again, and said, 
“ Come, I am waiting most anxiously. Won’t you 
say, ‘Yes.’” 

“Well. Yes. Will that do?” replied Maria. 

“ It will do,” said he, as he put his manly arm 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 83 

about her and drew her close to his side, and after 
imprinting a kiss upon he* rosy lips, he said: 

“ You will never regret this promise, and I shall 
try and make your life just as happy as lies in my 
power. And when the birds come again and sing 
in the tree -tops, and when nature has again covered 
earth with its green mantle, I will come to claim 
you as my bride, and we will spend the whole sum- 
mer at Long Branch or Nantucket, and enjoy all 
the comforts and pleasures of our new and happy 
life at the sea-shore.” 

Clarence Goodes was tall and handsomely built. 
His dress was faultless and set off a noble figure of 
manly symmetry. His fine, dark-blue eyes were 
filled to overflowing with mirth and his mouth was 
of exquisite mould, and over it he wore a blonde 
mustache. It was two months since he came to 
the interesting city where Maria dwelt, and the time 
had passed so rapidly and so pleasantly, that he 
scarce could realize where it had flown. But, sure 
enough, it had gone, and now he must return to his 
business in Cincinnati, and leave for a time the 
charming lady that he had wooed and won, and 
plighted as his future wife. The beam of the eye, 
the tone of the voice, the thousand-and-one tender- 
nesses which emanate from word, and look, and 
action, these form the true eloquence of love which 
can be felt and understood, but never described, as 
it was displayed on this memorable night of betro- 
thal. As he rose to go, she began to feel more keenly 


8 4 


LOUISA VAN bentiiusen; ok, 


the idea of parting, which had never occurred to her 
before. A feeling that she had never before experi- 
enced came over her and broke in upon her dream 
of felicity. She had grown to love him now, and 
she looked at his departure as a sudden evil come 
to rob her of joy and happiness for the remainder 
of the winter. 

At the door she wept like a child, but he drew 
her close to his bosom and kissed the tears from her 
soft cheek. She did not shrink from him, for there 
are moments of mingled sorrow and tenderness, 
which hallow the caresses of affection. Once again 
assuring her that he would return in the early sum- 
mer to claim her hand, the tears subdued and a 
bright smile lit up her countenance. The parting 
words were said, and rude time came in between and 
separated them. 

He soon reached the home of Louisa, and finding 
no one in the drawing-room, all having gone out 
calling or visiting, he went directly to his own room 
and sat down, and pondered over the future days of 
happiness in store for him. 

Now turn to another scene of interest. In the 
little cottage parlor of Mrs. Scrivener sat Frank 
Morrison full of earnest devotion and tender affec- 
tion breathing tales of love into the ear of the fair 
and beautiful Gertrude, who listened with the atten- 
tiveness of love, to the words as they fell from his 
lips. 

Frank Morrison was rather slim and a little above 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


*5 


the medium height. With an expression of great 
power about the eyes and mouth, dark-brown eyes 
and a heavy, black mustache, hair dark and slightly 
inclined to curl, he was considered handsome by 
those that were good judges of beauty. 

He had evidently fallen in love with Gertrude at 
first sight, and now he is sitting by her side, telling 
her all his heart secrets, and asking her for her 
hand. To his earnest supplications Gertrude as- 
sented, for she loved Frank with all her heart, and 
with love such as only a tender woman can offer 
who loves for the first time. They sat and con- 
versed and made plans for a long time, but the part- 
ing hour came at last, with its chilling sensation 
and regrets. 

At the door, as she said her wistful, sweet “ good- 
bye,” underneath the rays of the bright moonbeams 
shining down upon her, he could not help feeling with 
keenest regret that he must now leave her glowing 
face, bright with a mute caress, crowned by a wealth 
of shadowy brown hair. As he left her, the tears fell in 
silent profusion for him, — yes, for him. He almost 
felt like turning back and taking her with him then, 
but his eyes filled with tears as he waved another 
good-bye. Her last look was his, her last smile, her 
last tear, as he turned again and saw her standing 
where he had but a moment ago left her. He said to 
himself as he wandered down the broad avenue, “ It 
won’t be a long time. Never fear. I’ll come when 
the birds return again. Time itself will grow old, 


86 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


but all through the fret and change of years I can 
never forget the tender look, the sweet sad smile, the 
loving heart and tear-bedimmed eyes that watched 
me in the moonlight till out of sight.” 

Ah,, me! what promises! what vows! No one 
knows how many were made on that brilliant winter 
evening. But suffice it to say, that Frank Morrison 
had so earnestly and ardently pressed his suit that 
Gertrude Scrivener consented, and they agreed that 
they would be married the following June, when all 
the world would be blushing in its freshness and 
beauty. And so time passed ever silently on, turn- 
ing over page after page and casting aside the fore- 
going ones to be speedily forgotten. But to Frank 
Morrison’s life, these were hours of sentiment and 
romance, which time, with its envious wing, could 
never in his mind darken or obliterate. 

Such bright and pleasant hours can never be for- 
gotten, as he spent in the little cottage of Gertrude 
Scrivener. Such happy moments in the friendly in- 
tercourse of thought and feeling, wandered together 
hand in hand within the gardens of fancy and hope, 
and gathered the summer flowers of the spirit or the 
withered and crushed roses of the heart. Such seasons 
of intimate conversation and pure and sweet enjoy- 
ment lend to life a halcyon ring of rainbow hue 
as it glides on with swift-winged pinions to its infi- 
nite home. 

There is a celestial calm and an elevated and 
inspiring joy in the trance of mind; a pure and silent 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


37 


sense of the nobler nature; a sweet serenity and 
a happiness divine in the simple and quiet expression 
of virtuous esteem and living friendship. Such joys 
and such serenities are consecrated upon the shrine 
of every heart, and in the memory of thousands of 
human souls that tread the globe. 

Who is there among us, dear readers, that would 
loose the remembrance of the past, whether it be 
happy or sad ? Or who can forget the light of by- 
gone days, when true loving confidences, and the 
hope of their continuance, are truly our own? True 
friendships elevate, encourage and strengthen attach- 
ment. Fond endearments and bright emotions of 
an unselfish, undeceitful and happy mind, all fill us 
with a mute but exquisite delight, as we revel in the 
luxury of a mere sensation. 


88 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


CHAPTER VII. 


A VISIT TO THE POOR. 


NE day, just as Louisa was making prepara- 



tions to call upon some of her fashionable ac- 


quaintances, with her mother, one of the servants 
rapped on her door and said : 

“ Matilda Smith is below and would like to see 
you. She is all excited and seems to be in a great 
hurry about something.” 

“You may show her up to my room, if you 
please, Katie, right away.” 

In a short time the door that had been left partly 
ajar, opened wide, and Matilda, with her broad, full, 
honest face, flushed a deep crimson all over, entered 
the room with these words : “ Good morning to 

you, Miss Louisa. It’s a fine day, this.” 

“ Good morning, Matilda. What is the trouble ? 
You seem to be worried about something. Aunt 
Hannah is not sick, is she ?” 

“ Oh, no, Miss Louisa, but there is a poor body, 
a mighty fine body she is, too, that lives just over on 
Locust Street, that is in heaps of trouble. Her 
husband is dreadful sick and she has no friends in 
the whole city. She has only been here a little 
while, too ; a perfect stranger and dreadful poor, and 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


89 


she just cries and takes on all the time. She’s 
afraid he’ll die, and she is pretty nigh gone crazy. 
I’m afraid she will die, too, and I thought as how 
good you was to say a comfortin’ word to such kind 
of folks as is in trouble. And so I thought I’d jist 
come and see as if you would not go and see her.” 

“ Well,” said Louisa, and then she paused for a 
moment, as if in thought, and finally continued, say- 
ing — “ We will go at once.” So, putting on her 
seal sacque and her dainty little jet-covered bonnet, 
she ran down-stairs and excused herself from her 
mother, and was soon out on the street, hurrying 
toward the home of the sick and distressed. 

“ How did you happen to find out about this poor 
woman and what is her name ?” inquired Louisa. 

“ Her name is Cunningham, and the way I first 
spied her, I was going down to Polly Graham’s after 
buttermilk and the poor creature was standing by 
the gate crying, jest as I came along. She stopped 
me and asked me as I had jest as soon come in and 
stay with her a little while ; her husband was sick 
and she was feared he was going to die. So I went 
in and sot down a little while and I jest thought of 
you ; and I told her I would go and get you to come, 
as you was such a good hand to speak kind to the 
poor; and they have nothing to eat,” continued 
Matilda, talking just as fast as she could make her 
tongue fly. “ I tell you ’tis ’most enough to send 
her clear distracted. She is such a fine woman and a 
real lady, and I know it.” 


90 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“ How can you tell she is a real lady, Matilda ?” 

“ ’Cause, Miss Louisa, she is so very ’ticular with 
what she has got ; and as neat as wax ; and she talks 
all kinds of nice words just as you do, and I tell 
you she has mighty fine clothes, but not as nice as 
your’n.” 

A few moments and they were at the door of an 
old-fashioned, tumble-down tenement house, with old- 
fashioned oaken doors, latticed windows and gable- 
front, sadly time-worn and weather-beaten. 

As they stood on the rickety steps for a moment 
they could hear the groans of the husband, as he 
was suffering in a delirious state, and the soft voice 
of the wife, as she tried to soothe and quiet him by 
kind and loving words. But failing in her most 
earnest entreaties, she cried in heart-rending tones : 
“ O merciful Father, what have I done to suffer thus ? 
I could have borne almost anything else. The loss 
of friends, our poverty and all else would be as 
nothing compared to this ; but to see George suffer 
and endure such torture ; and to be without means 
to procure for him the sendees of a physician or 
anything else. It is more than I can bear,” and she 
buried her face in her hands and wept as though 
her heart would break. 

When Matilda entered the room, followed by 
Louisa, and advanced toward the bedside of the 
sick man close to where Mrs. Cunningham sat, 
Matilda said, in a kind voice : “ Mrs. Cunningham, 

th's is the dear lady, Miss Van Benthusen, that I 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


91 


told you I would fetch to see you.” Mrs. Cunning- 
ham arose and Louisa extended her hand to her 
and pressed it gently, saying : 

“ Mrs. Cunningham, I am sorry to find you so 
deeply afflicted ; a stranger in a strange city and 
your husband so ill. Thinking you might need the 
assistance of some one, I came, and I hope you will 
let me be a friend to you. Matilda told me about 
you and I took the liberty to call with her this 
morning.” 

“ I am glad you did, for I have no one to speak 
to.” 

“ What seems to be the trouble with your hus- 
band ?” So saying, she placed her hand upon his 
forehead and continued : “ He seems to have a high 
fever. What does the doctor say about him ?” 

“ He has not had a doctor yet.” 

“ Without a doctor and such a fever !” exclaimed 
Louisa. 

“ My means are such that I am unable to pay one 
for his attendance ;” and a flood of tears filled her 
eyes as she spoke, and they coursed down her care- 
worn cheeks. 

Louisa turned at once to Matilda and said : “ Go, 
Matilda, and tell Dr. Montgomery to call at once. 
Do not forget to mention at my request. Now 
please make haste.” 

“ But, Miss Van Benthusen, I have no means, no 
money to pay him.” 

“ Never mind that, Mrs. Cunningham, I will see 


92 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


that it is made all right. Do not worry any more. 
Try now and calm yourself and I will do all I can 
for you.” 

In less than half an hour the physician came, and 
after a careful examination of his patient he left him 
sufficient medicine for the night, assuring Mrs. Cun- 
ningham that he hoped to restore him to health in 
a short time ; and that he would call again the next 
morning. 

He had scarcely been gone ten minutes before 
Mr. Cunningham fell into a sleep for the first time 
in many long hours. This gave his patient, watch- 
ful wife reason to hope that the medicine had done 
him some good, for he was relieved of pain, at least 
for a time, and was resting. There was now cause 
for strong hope of his recovery. 

Soon after, Louisa took her departure, promising 
to call as often as she could, and that if any change 
took place and Mrs. Cunningham would send 
Matilda for her, she would come immediately. 

Mrs. Cunningham took her hand and said, “ Miss 
Van Benthusen, I thank you for your great kind- 
ness. I shall never forget you. God bless and 
keep you, for you have a good heart. Very few 
young ladies that have position and wealth would 
ever think of the poor and their afflictions. You 
have brought relief to my heart that was almost 
broken with despair. I cannot express my gratitude 
to you for your goodness.” 

Without waiting to hear any more, Louisa hurried 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


93 


away ; and stopping at Martin’s store, she purchased 
groceries sufficient to fill two large baskets, and 
ordered them to be delivered without delay to Mrs. 
Cunningham’s. After this she walked home, feel- 
ing in her heart that although it was then too late 
to make her calls she was happier to know that she 
had been the means of comforting a lonely heart, 
and had, perhaps, saved a human life. 

When she arrived home and entered the drawing- 
room, she found her mother sitting in front of the 
grate, which was bright with a burning mass of coals. 
She said, as she approached her mother with a 
pleasant smile upon her face : 

“ Mother, dear, did you make your calls and get 
home so soon?” 

“ I only made two, but they were most enjoyable 
ones. You ought to have been with me. I met 
several noted people at Mrs. Schay dell’s. The 
handsome and accomplished wife of Senator Good- 
win called while I was there, and brought with her 
the wealthy Charles D’Chauncey, of California, a 
cousin of hers. He is one of the finest-looking gen- 
tlemen, as well as one of the most cultivated I ever 
met. He is a foreigner by birth, but came to Cali- 
fornia to make his home. He does nothing but 
travel and enjoy his riches. Mrs. Schaydell told 
me, after they had gone, that he had an elegant 
home in California, furnished in the most magnifi- 
cent style, and that he was still heart-free. At Mrs. 
Wellington’s I met the accomplished Miss Ella 


94 


LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; PR, 


Gibbard, of Washington, and one or two others of 
equal note. ’Tis really too bad you were not with 
me to have formed their acquaintance.” 

“ I should have been delighted to meet them, but 
I have done something else that was of more conse- 
quence, and when I lay down to rest to-night, I can 
think over the way I passed the day, and it will give 
me far more pleasure than if I had added twenty 
names of distinguished persons to my already large 
list.” 

“ I fear, my child, you spend more of your time 
than you ought among the sick and distressed. I 
fear it will wear on your constitution. You are 
young yet, and now is the time that you should go 
out and enjoy these golden days of youth. As 
soon as the first flush of youth has vanished it 
can never, on this earth, return, so why not let me 
visit oftener the homes of suffering humanity and 
relieve you ?” 

“ Oh no, mother, it is a comfort to me to lend a 
helping hand to the lonely and stricken souls. You 
know I am not one to make a display of myself, 
just to gain admiration from this stranger or the 
other that comes to our city only to indulge in the 
frivolities of fashion. I love to listen to the anxious 
mothers who work hard to support their prattling 
little ones, and to hear them tell me just how they 
get along, and the varied scenes of their lives. 
Many a strange story have I listened to of poverty, 
disgrace and shame ; and then, in the sacred depth 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 95 

of my heart, thanked God for His blessings to aid 
me in administering to their wants.” 

“ I know, Louisa ; but you ought, according to 
your position in life, devote a little more attention 
to some of our fashionable acquaintances. Your 
name is scarcely ever mentioned, while that of Fan- 
nie Schaydell is uppermost in the conversation of 
the most learned. She is always first in everything. 
There is not a stranger that comes into the city but 
she is presented to them first, and she fascinates 
them with her brilliant conversation.” 

“ I do not covet the admiration of the gay crowd.” 

Just as she made this remark her father entered 
the room, and rolling an easy chair up beside those 
of his wife and daughter, he said : 

“ Why such grave countenances — anything hap- 
pened of unusual nature ?” 

At once the happenings of the day were repeated 
to him, and Louisa, whose hand and heart were ever 
ready to do a charitable act, was never limited by 
her father. After telling him about the scene of 
distress she had witnessed that afternoon, he drew 
from his pocket several bills and handed them to 
her to use as she thought right and proper. She 
thanked him over and over again, and assured him 
that he would be abundantly blessed for his good- 
ness, for the Scriptures say that, “ Giving to the 
poor is lending to the Lord.” 

The night passed sweetly by, and the next day 
with a light heart she visited again the humble abode 


9 6 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


of Mrs. Cunningham. As she walked into the par- 
tially-opened door, she found Matilda faithfully per- 
forming her duty beside the bed of the sick man. 
The young wife, after having exhausted every effort 
to keep up, finally sank, completely overpowered by 
fatigue, upon a rude couch and fell into a deep sleep. 
It was a fair picture for a painter’s eye as she lay 
motionlessly sleeping. Her features were of a fine 
cast. Her heavy dark hair was flung carelessly over 
the pillow, and the long eyelashes and tear-stained 
cheek contrasted with her pale upturned face, which 
bore sufficient evidence that she had suffered much 
anguish. 

Louisa had been seated but a little while, when a 
low moan from the sick-bed sounded upon her ear. 
In an instant the poor, tired wife sprung to her feet 
and stood beside the bedside of her husband, and, in 
a frightened manner, as if half-dreaming, said: 

“ My dear George, what is the matter, are you 
worse?” 

“ No, dearest, not worse, I was only dreaming, and 
it was so real that it fairly startled me. I was so 
happy. It seemed as if I was well and strong and 
was trying to work hard to make you happy for all 
that you have endured for me; you who have left 
everything: friends, home and all. You deserve far 
more than I can do.” 

“That was a nice dream, dear; try and go to sleep 
again, and you may dream of all the happiness your 
faithful love has given me.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


97 


“ I fear, darling Laura, that the sorrow you have 
had overbalances the happiness; but, if I live and 
get well once again, your life in the future, I hope, 
will be one of greater joy.” 

“Never mind, George, about the estrangements 
of our past career. Don’t think of me now, but try 
and take rest, and all will turn out well in the end. 
Have faith, dear, and God will not forsake us.” Just 
then, turning to give him his medicine, she observed 
Louisa, who then rose from her chair, and said: 

“ I was anxious to know how your husband was, 
and this morning was such a bright and fresh one, 
I thought I would come myself in preference to 
sending.” 

“ Oh, he is a great deal better. The doctor says 
he has broken up what he feared was the beginning 
of a fever, and there is no danger, unless something 
unexpected should set in, now he is so weak. And 
it is all owing to your kindness and assistance, 
for which I am truly thankful. You have saved 
him from death, and me from desolation and de- 
spair. How can I ever repay you for your good- 
ness?” 

“ Don’t mention pay, Mrs. Cunningham, you are 
perfectly welcome to all I have done for you.” 

“Yes, but you don’t know how thankful I am.” 

“If I have been the means,” said Louisa, “of 
making you so happy, I am glad. You know it is 
our duty, according to God’s law, to help each other 
when in sickness and adversity. And is there not 
7 


98 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

anything else I can do for you ? Matilda will stay 
and help you, and if there is anything you need, do 
not be afraid to let me know.” 

“You are so good, Miss Van Benthusen, just the 
sight of you will be a favor. There are so few that 
think of the unfortunate when they themselves 
are surrounded by comforts. Doctor says George 
will soon be well, and then we will not need any 
assistance.” 

“In the meantime you will confer a favor by ac- 
cepting this little gift,” putting into Laura’s hand a 
few bills amounting to thirty dollars in all, the money 
her father gave her the night previous, adding these 
words: “Take this, and get for your husband’s 
comfort everything required, and keep yourself 
cheerful, and you have my best wishes.” 

“ Oh ! thank you, Miss Van Benthusen ; you are 
an angel of mercy sent to save us. I will gladly ac- 
cept it for George’s sake.” 

Mrs. Cunningham’s manner showed culture and 
refinement, and although proud-spirited, in a meas- 
ure, she accepted with a willing heart the alms so 
generously bestowed upon her, and she almost wor- 
shiped the beautiful girl who was the giver, as she 
stood before her. 

* The poor can hold up their heads, and feel inde- 
pendent and proud when in health and prosperity. 
But when sickness and trouble come to their lowly 
homes the proud spirit bows and is made hum- 
ble. But is it any disgrace ? None at all. Far 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


99 


better that, than resort to vile means to satisfy their 
wants. None can tell how soon affliction will come 
upon us. This world is an unsolved mystery and 
God’s purposes we cannot fathom. Ah ! none know 
what changes lie hidden away in the vast expanse 
of the future, only to be unfolded one by one. But 
in the dim, hushed bower of twilight, when the 
crushed spirit is weighed down in grief over misfor- 
tune, does it not make us appreciate even little bless- 
ings that are continually intervening between the 
dark and cloudy days of life ! 

When Louisa turned to go, once more Mrs. Cun- 
ningham assured her that her cheering words had 
done her worlds of good, and finished by saying : 
“ I feel stronger and better for them. Your presence 
is like sunshine after a storm. It chases away the 
dark, heavy clouds of despair. Do come again. I 
shall miss you so much.” 

“ Yes, I will promise you to come often until your 
husband shall have gained his health back ;” and 
then with a pleasant “ good morning,” she took her 
departure. 

Laura felt happier than she had for a long time. 
In her heart she felt that they were on the direct 
road to prosperity and they would yet enjoy them- 
selves and be better off than at any time during 
their married life. 

Two weeks passed by, and Mr. Cunningham was 
gaining rapidly and Louisa visited them quite fre- 
quently and learned the greater share of their 


IOO LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

history. One day they were talking on various sub- 
jects, when Laura said to Louisa: 

“ I suppose, Miss Van Benthusen, you have often 
wondered what circumstances placed me in a posi- 
tion like this, so vastly different from that in which I 
was born, brought up and educated.” 

“ Well, yes, I did think of it once in awhile, but 
never gave it much study.” 

“ I married against my parents’ will.” 

“ I never once thought of that, but I had fancied 
many other ways. You have then suffered severely, 
have you not, for your step ?” 

“ Just listen to my story, and you will not think 
that I am to blame for all this hardship and suffer- 
ing. George and I attended the same school, were in 
the same classes, read out of the same book and were 
more like brother and sister, than anything else from 
early youth. As time went on and we had finished 
our education, we grew to love each other, but 
we never allowed the growing passion in our hearts 
to become known to any one, save ourselves. 

“ Soon after he left school, my father secured a 
place for him in a furniture store as book-keeper. 
We used to see each other often, and as the days 
passed by we became more and more attached to each 
other. My father thought that wealth and position 
were the only honorable things in life, and so he 
encouraged a gentleman that was almost three times 
my age, as a fit suitor for my hand. But I regarded 
him with fear, for aside from his wealth, there was 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


IOI 


no other attraction about him, and when my people 
proposed him for a husband, I felt that I had rather 
marry a common working man that digs on the road 
and love him, than a man possessed of wealth that I 
would despise. At my refusal to become his wife, 
my father grew angry and turned me from his door, 
thinking I would soon relent and agree to marry the 
man of their choice. But my heart was stubborn 
and I would not yield. Mine was a beautiful home, 
but I left it and become an outcast in the broad 
streets of Chicago. I would have been penniless 
but for some twenty-three dollars that I had laid 
by at odd times, never dreaming that it would be 
the all I had to depend upon until I could get em- 
ployment. I went at once to the house of an old lady 
who had recently buried her only child and daughter, 
and, although her circumstances were not of the best, 
yet on account of my close resemblance to her fondly- 
cherished daughter, she took me in and gave me a 
home as long as I wished to stay. I helped her 
with sewing and house work, and we got along 
nicely. I should have felt contented to have stayed 
had nothing else presented itself. Several days had 
elapsed before George learned of my whereabouts 
and called to see me. I told him all and he at once 
professed his love for the twentieth time, and I 
agreed to become his wife, without further delay. I 
loved him dearly, but felt uneasy to know what 
was best to do, for in the meantime my father 
had bought out the furniture store where George 


102 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; OR, 


was employed and he was under my father’s stern 
command. 

“ I knew that as soon as it became known to my 
father that I had married George, he would at once 
discharge him. I knew that I must either return to 
my childhood’s home and wed the man of their 
selection or else marry George and run my chance 
of life and all its changes. But in that feeling of 
dependence, that I was homeless and unprotected, 
and that even if I should return to my home it 
would never be again to me what it once was, I 
finally became the wife of him whom I loved and 
he is one of the noblest-hearted men living. He 
has been and is so good to me. 

“Yes, we were married, and for a longtime the 
fact was kept from my parents, until one day several 
months afterwards, an acquaintance of George’s 
came into the store and walked up to the desk where, 
in the presence of my father, he said : ‘ I haven’t 
had a chance to congratulate you yet on your mar- 
riage ; allow me to do so now.’ At once my father 
said, ‘ What, you married, George ?’ 

“ George said he was, and my father said he ought 
to have told him and he would have made him some 
handsome gift, as he was very much interested in 
his welfare and hoped he had a wife that was worthy 
of him. At that, George replied that ‘ he hoped he 
might always make her as happy as she made him.’ 
Again my father assured him that he was well worthy 
of any true woman’s love and wished him much 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


103 


happiness. That evening George came home to tea 
and told me what had transpired. I trembled all 
over, for I felt that the time was near at hand when 
there would be trouble. I could not sleep all night 
with this foreboding cast upon me so strongly. The 
next morning, just as I had imagined, the sorrow 
came, but a little sooner than I really expected. At 
about ten o’clock I was sitting by the window sew- 
ing, when I happened to look out, down the long 
street, and I saw George coming with a grave ex- 
pression on his face. I knew something had taken 
place and as soon as he came in and drew a chair up 
beside mine and sat down, I said : ‘ George, what is 
the matter ? has anything gone wrong with you, or 
are you sick ?’ ‘ Yes, something has gone wrong, 

but no one can take away my health and ambition to 
strive for your happiness.’ 

“ I asked all about it and he told me that my 
father approached him in the usual, pleasant manner 
and said he was glad he was married, and hoped 
he was not ashamed to tell him the worthy lady’s 
name. 

“ At that George did not answer for a moment, and 
when he did tell him, and that it was his daughter, 
he called out again and again, ‘ My daughter ! my 
daughter ! the minx, I’ll make her suffer for this 
action ;’ and heaping curses upon George in a fit of 
angry excitement he picked up a book that lay on 
the desk and slammed it to the ground, and ordered 
George to draw his money at once and quit his 


104 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

presence and never show his head in the store 
again. 

“ He did as my father ordered him to, and in a 
week’s time we came to this city and he procured 
work, at very low wages, in a coal office. There 
was a great deal for us to do and what money we 
had no more than furnished these rooms comforta- 
bly, and so we set to work trying to do the best we 
could. I took in a little sewing and helped along 
that way, and we were just seeing our way through 
the darkness when George was taken sick, and had 
it not been for you, Miss Van Benthusen, the Lord 
only knows what would have become of us.” 

“ I hope,” said Louisa, “ you have passed your 
worst trials, and I will see if my father can get your 
husband a situation by the time he is able to attend 
to it.” 

“ That will be grand,” said Laura. 

“ So it will,” added Mr. Cunningham. “ Thank 
you, Miss Van Benthusen, you are kind to help us. 
Could you succeed in getting me a place you would 
add a great favor to the many you have already con- 
ferred.” 

Louisa grew deeply interested in this young mar- 
ried couple, and in less than two weeks after that 
visit, she had managed, through her father’s assist- 
ance, to secure a place for Mr. Cunningham in a 
large wholesale grocery store as book-keeper, at a 
good salary. 

Since that time fortune smiled benignly upon 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


105 


them, and in every undertaking they seem to suc- 
ceed, and now they often laugh at the ill-luck that 
befell them when they first started out to battle 
with fortune ; and to-day they are truly thankful for 
all their disappointments, trials and sorrows, for 
they were only stepping-stones to fortune after all. 


io6 


LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 


CHAPTER VIII 


OUT WEST. 


INTER is at its depth and nature lies de- 



VV spoiled of every charm and wrapped in her 
shroud of snow ; where in summer the broad, green 
fields of tall, waving grass, gracefully bend back and 
forth with every breath of the sighing wind, is now 
covered with an icy robe. The joyous voices of 
merry groups of children playing beneath the shade 
of the stately forest trees are now hushed. The 
birds that filled the air with sweet music as they 
flitted from tree to tree, have all fled to a warmer 
climate. The swift-running rills and the broad 
streams that in summer afforded a cooling draught 
to the parched lip of the weary traveler, are now 
sheeted with ice. No sound is heard save the merry 
jingle of the sleigh-bells as they whirl rapidly over 
the frozen ground. 

In a large, old-fashioned farm-house, that stood 
quite three miles from the city, at the edge of a 
dense forest, lived good old Farmer Todpole and his 
buxom wife, with their five grown daughters, all of 
whom had bloomed into womanhood. Within the 
stone walls of this happy domicile all was activity. 
The good wife is preparing the turkey and chicken 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


io; 


for the oven. One of the girls is arranging the 
cakes and pies; another, the jams and jellies; a third 
is placing upon plates the golden and red apples, 
nuts and candies. Every one is busy doing some- 
thing toward making their impending feast a suc- 
cess. But what is the occasion of it all? Ah! a 
party from the city, about fifty in number, is expected 
and among them is the talented and thriving young 
editor of one of the leading papers. He came from 
the East some time ago, and located among the plain 
folks of the West. 

His tall, straight, manly form, and his wonderful 
development of talent could not fail to win the admi- 
ration of the fair and beautiful country girls of this 
western region; and, dear reader, when you learn 
that the person mentioned is Charlie Scrivener, 
you will not be surprised. He is looked up to with 
great respect by both old and young. He had only 
been settled a short time when he established his 
paper, which proved a grand success, owing to the 
honorable course which he pursued, together with 
his unusual degree of talent, morality and benevo- 
lence. He at once gained the good-will and respect 
of every one he met. His time was all devoted to 
the duties of his position and it was not often that 
he joined in pleasure -parties or allowed his time to 
be spent in indolence. Although he had refused 
many invitations to attend parties and dances, yet, 
in this instance, he accepted the cordial invitation of 
Mr. Todpole, fearing that should he refuse, the good 


108 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

old farmer might judge that he was too proud to 
associate with the plain people of the country and 
hence feel hurt. 

Mr. Todpole was a sterling-hearted, old farmer, 
filled with odd humor and dry jokes. His virtues 
were all his own ; plain, home-bred and unaffected. 
His very faults bore the likeness of his good quali- 
ties. Farmer Todpole, like the old oak that stands 
near his gate-way, is rough without, but sound and 
solid within. There is something, too, in the appear- 
ance of his old homestead that is extremely poetical 
and picturesque, and as long as it is comfortable and 
well filled, it matters not that it is old-fashioned, and 
accords not with the tastes and designs of our more 
modern farmers’ homes. 

Within this home of domestic bliss, Mrs. Todpole 
is surveying with satisfaction the long tables in the 
large, square dining-hall, loaded with delicious food 
and all the delicacies with which the farmer’s larder 
abounds, and which the good wife and the rosy- 
cheeked daughters knew full well how to serve up 
for their guests. When all was in readiness, and 
the young ladies, dressed in their most becoming 
style, were loitering in the sitting-room, Mr. Tod- 
pole entered the room and said, as he looked with 
pride upon his older daughters with a mischievous 
twinkle in his eye, “ I suppose my dark-eyed, laugh- 
ing Anna, or my dimpled-cheeked Nell, is going to 
try and see which can make a conquest of the young 
editor to-night.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. IO9 

“ Not I,” said Nell ; “ I have no desire that way; 
it is Anna.” 

“ Indeed it is yourself, for you have been talking 
about him all day,” said Anna. 

“ I am not dressed stylish enough to attract his 
fine tastes,” said Nell. 

“ I hope,” replied Mrs. Todpole, “ that he has 
better sense than to judge persons by their clothes. 
If he hasn’t I wouldn’t give much for him.” 

“ Of course he has good judgment,” added Farmer 
Todpole, “ for didn’t he accept my invitation when 
he told me he has refused many others.” 

“ Is that a fact !” replied Anna. 

“ It is,” said the father, “ and,” continued he, 
“ Mr. Scrivener is not stuck up ; he has good, solid, 
common sense and knows how to use it, too. Al- 
though you were born and raised in the country, 
yet in education and manners you are capable of 
acting and talking as smart as any of the city ladies.” 

“ That’s so,” said Nell, “ we know what belongs 
to good manners if we are not quite as polished as 
some of the boarding-school girls that will probably 
be here to-night.” 

“ Come, do sit down,” said the father, “ you will 
all be so tired you can’t half entertain your com- 
pany.” 

“ Who ever heard of such a thing as country girls 
getting tired when they are preparing for and ex- 
pecting a good time,” responded the mother. 

“ Tired, indeed,” spoke up little Jennie, blushing 


IIO LOUISA VAN BKNTHUSEN ; OR, 

to the tips of her ears ; “ if Nell or Anna are too 
tired to get Mr. Scrivener for a beau, I will.” This 
speech, coming from the younger sister of the five, 
caused an outburst of laughter which made the old 
home ring. 

“ You may have him,” replied Nell. 

“ Oh, I know why you don’t care about him,” 
said Jennie, laughingly. 

“Why?” 

“ Oh ! because — ” 

“ Well, but with it. We want to know.” 

“You are expecting somebody else, to-night. 
That is why you have had your hair done up in 
pins for two days and got it all crimped so fine, and 
then got that pretty new white ruffle to put around 
your neck, and all those little pink bows on.” 

Now the laugh was turned on Nell, who was in 
the best of spirits and had a good reason to feel in- 
different about catching Mr. Scrivener. 

“ It will not be long now,” said the farmer, as he 
looked at the clock that stood on the mantel-piece, 
“ before the sleighs will begin to come.” 

Over the drifting snow lightly and swiftly the 
horses were prancing and dancing onward with the 
merry, merry jingle of the bells making music as 
they mingled with the sweet voice of song. Wrapped 
in buffalo-robes to shield them from the frost 
and cold, they sped on and on, until finally they 
arrived at their destination. 

The pitchy gloom without makes the heart dilate 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


I I I 

on entering the room filled with the glow and 
warmth of the winter evening fire. The ruddy blaze 
diffuses an artificial summer and sunshine through- 
out the room and lights up each countenance into 
a kindlier welcome for all. Where can the honest 
face of hospitality expand into a broader or more 
cheerful smile ? Where is the shy glance of love 
more sweetly eloquent than by the bright winter 
fires, as the keen blasts of the winter wind rush 
around the house and rumble down the chimney, 
shaking the doors and windows in their wild career ? 
What can be more grateful or pleasant than to be 
sheltered by such a hospitable roof and such cheer- 
ful and happy occupants, and to listen to the kind 
words of welcome as they enter the room ? Bright 
eyes sparkled and merry voices chattered as the 
guests took off their wrappings and thoroughly 
warmedThemselves before engaging in the festivi- 
ties of the evening.” 

A large number of the city young people and the 
friends in the neighborhood composed the party. 
There were no strangers among them. Each knew 
the other as they met, and all were sensible of the 
charm of each other’s society, and were brought 
more closely together by depending upon each other 
for enjoyment. Heart called unto heart and they 
drew their pleasure from the deep wells of loving 
kindness, which were resorted to to furnish fresh, 
pure elements of domestic bliss. Soon all were oc- 
cupied in various amusements. Some were engaged 


I 12 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

in dancing, others at games, several more clustered 
about the organ, singing and playing, while a large 
number were in conversation around the fireside. 
At one end of the room a happy group was prepar- 
ing for charades and tableaux. Sitting on the sofa, 
at one side of the room, was Charlie Scrivener, gaz- 
ing upon the pretty forms and features of the western 
beauties, as they tripped the light fantastic toe, and 
he said within himself : “ Were it not for a face and 
form that haunts me and a voice that charmed my 
boyhood heart into bright hopes and aspirations, I 
should be in danger of falling in love with the spark- 
ling wit and and the bright smiles of the light-hearted 
Anna Todpole ; but the memory of Louisa Van 
Benthusen is so twined with my very heart-strings 
that no change of place or time can ever blot her 
from my memory or my heart. And yet she has 
many competitors for her hand, and how do I know 
but that she may already be wooed and won by some 
noble fellow ? I must write to her. Why did I not 
tell her of my love for her when I had a chance ? 
But if I am spared my life and health, I will return 
and ask her for her hand. I love her dearly and it 
seems as if she must understand it, but by the tone 
of her letters and the way we conversed when I last 
saw her, I know that she little dreams of the wild 
emotions she has awakened in my heart. Does she 
love me ? That is the question. Just as a brother, 
that’s all. But she promised she would not forget 
me. Ah, me ! that was only the promise of a true 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


113 

friend. Am I too late, I wonder, to realize this 
growing passion ? She must know it in some way; 
but wait — ” 

For a long time he sat in this sort of reverie, 
until Anna Todpole came up to him, saying, “ Come, 
Mr. Scrivener, can you not give up one evening to 
enjoyment? I suppose you are studying up para- 
graphs for your paper.” 

“ No, Miss Anna, not that exactly.” 

“ Then, something about us plain country peo- 
ple ?” 

“ Wrong again.” 

“ Then you are not enjoying this evening’s enter- 
tainment and are wishing you were somewhere 
else ?” 

“ Guess again.” 

“ I give it up, so please tell me. Why here I 
went and put on my best alpaca dress and fixed all 
up extra, to see if I could not attract your attention, 
and you have not given me any attention yet.” 

With a smile, he replied, “ Then I will the rest of 
the evening.” 

“But,” said she, “you did not tell me yet what 
you were dreaming about.” 

“ I was thinking of a dear friend ; one that I used 
to often mingle with in the gay dance, and to-night’s 
entertainment makes me think that person would be 
perfectly happy here this evening.” 

“ What ? thinking of absent ones with all these 
western beauties about vou ? I declare, it is a reg- 
8 


1 14 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

ular sin, and not very complimentary to our talent, 
either.” 

“ You mistake my feelings and thoughts of the 
absent ones.” 

“ Pray, who might this picture of loveliness 
be?” 

“ Oh, she is really a lovely creature, but she is only 
a friend, that is all. I have a sister and mother that 
I was also thinking of.” 

“ But some one’s else sister, I guess, was the prin- 
cipal theme of your thoughts.” 

“ No.” 

“ Then some fair one that is interested in your 
sister’s brother,” replied the witty Anna, trying to ex- 
tract from him the real truth. 

“ None that I know of,” said Charlie. 

“ Well, then, you must not set here and ponder 
over others and draw contrasts between their beauty 
and loveliness and that of us western girls.” 

“Just as you say.” 

“ Supposing we take a promenade and look at the 
different manner in which my guests are enjoying 
themselves.” 

“ Very well. Now, I am going to rely upon you 
to keep me in good spirits all the evening.” 

“ I will try, for I love to see everybody cheerful 
about me. So you must cheer up.” 

“ You are a good, light-hearted girl, and can drive 
away all sad thoughts very easily.” 

“ Thank you ; I am glad you think so.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. I 1 5 

" See the sets are forming for the Virginia reel. 
Let us take part.” 

“All right,” replied Anna, and off they started for 
the next room. 

Time sped quickly on ; music and merry-making 
gave it wings. The hours flew with the fleetness of 
a bird, and before any were aware the gentle rays of 
the morning light were peeping in upon them. And 
now comes the wrapping up and bidding good-bye. 
The impatient horses pawed the snow as they 
waited for their load of joyous-hearted couples to 
make themselves comfortable for a long drive. It 
was broad day-light when this merry party reached 
the city and their homes, well pleased and satisfied 
with their entertainment. 

Some days afterward, when Charlie felt in a good 
mood for writing home to his mother and sister, he 
gave a description of the party at Farmer Todpole’s 
and how he enjoyed it, saying : “His daughter, 
Anna, is one of the kindest and most warm-hearted, 
cheerful young ladies I ever met. Although 
brought up on a farm in the country, she is perfectly 
lovely in mind, as she is in person. I am beginning,” 
added he, “ to grow quite attached to my western 
home and would not now live east for anything. 
There is such a difference in the ways of the people 
here, compared with those at the east in general. 
These people are so cordial and good-hearted, al- 
ways ready to shake hands ; and none of that dainty 
touch of the fingers, but a genuine, old hand-shake 


II 6 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

that inspires a person with good feelings of friend- 
ship. And then, another thing, they are so indepen- 
dent in their ways of living. They don’t mind 
what the famous Mrs. Grundy may say. They do as 
they think best, and are not governed by rule. A 
respectable poor man is as much thought of and 
honored as one that abounds in wealth.” 

In this manner he spoke of his new field of labor, 
and concluded by saying, that he wished they would 
sell out and come to live in the broad, free West. 

When Mrs. Scrivener read this letter to Louisa, 
a heavy pain passed through the girl’s heart, and her 
feelings, for a time, were fast overcoming her. 
Tender-hearted as she was, she kept back the tears v 
that were crowding into her eyes, threatening to 
burst forth at any moment. But she kept them 
under control, until she reached her own chamber, 
and there, in silence, she gave way to a violent fit 
of weeping. 

Had Mrs. Scrivener known that Louisa was 
interested in Charlie, she would not have read this 
letter to her, but would have spared her the pain it 
inflicted. Alas ! she did not dream of such a thing 
and innocently read unmindful of its effect. The 
words had dealt a cruel blow to Louisa, but only 
for a time. Still, when she was alone she would 
admit to herself the deep interest she felt for Charlie, 
more than for any one else. And she thought he 
surely must know it, and yet she consoled herself 
again with the thought that he only wished her for 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


II 7 

a dear friend. He might love the brilliant beauty 
of whom he writes, and this consideration of things 
only made her feel more and more how dear he was 
to her. But she would make no advances, and 
resolved to wait patiently and let nature take its 
own course ; for although she was sensible of the 
true love she felt for him, he* had never yet declared 
his love for her at any extent, save that of a true 
friend, and so there was nothing for her to build her 
hopes upon. So standing as it were in the depths 
of a deep shadow, she waits for nature to form out 
her destiny as best it may. 


1 18 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


CHAPTER IX. 

AN OBJECT IN VIEW. 

T HERE is sometimes a day in March that cannot 
be exceeded, or perhaps even equaled, by any- 
thing which the full glory of the summer can awaken 
— a day which tempts us to cast the memory of the 
winter from us. The air is soft and warm, and the oc- 
casional cool breeze that comes sweeping through the 
streets is by no means unpleasant. It was on one of 
these days that Fannie Schaydell was sitting in the 
study-room beside an open window, seemingly inter- 
ested in reading. But her mind is not on the book she 
holds before her. She is thinking and contemplating 
plans whereby she can make a display of her per- 
sonal accomplishments to the best advantage, and 
adorn her graceful figure in the most elegant and 
costly manner, so as to draw admiration from the 
gay crowd that throngs the city: While in this half- 
dreaming, half-musing mood, she is suddenly broken 
of her reverie by the entrance of her mother, who 
says: 

“Come, Fannie, why do you sit in the house this 
lovely day when everybody is out enjoying it?” 

“ Gracious knows ! I don’t care if the whole world 
is out. What difference do you suppose what other 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. I 19 

folks do makes to me, whether they are out or not ? 
I guess I could go if I felt so inclined.” 

“ But, you know, Fannie, we have few such lovely 
days as this, at this season of the year, particularly; 
and I noticed in the Personals this morning, that 
Bertha Vanalstine is in the city, the guest of her 
aunt, Mrs. Lawrence. You ought to call upon her.” 

“ What do I care for Bertha Vanalstine? She and 
I never were good friends. I always hated her.” 

“You know she is from Cincinnati, and since her 
people moved to that city she has become quite an 
intimate friend of Mr. Morrison’s. I was just think- 
ing it would be a good way to assist you in gaining 
more completely his admiration; for you know, that 
when she returns, if you have worked your cards 
correctly, she is just simple-minded enough to speak 
of you in high terms; that will do more for you than 
you can imagine.” 

“ Dear me ! how I do hate to be obliged to call 
upon people that I despise. However, I suppose 
that would be a fine way and would do much for me. 
A little flattery and a few soft words, together with 
my attention to her in society, will inspire her with 
the belief that I consider her as one of my dearest 
friends.” 

“Yes, it will be a great help to you, Fannie, and 
I would not delay in calling.” 

“ How dreadfully disgusting to my nature to try 
to be kind and friendly to one I would rather see 
trampled under foot ! I hate her, and always did, the 


120 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; OR, 


horrid creature! There is nothing pretty about 
her or attractive, either. But never mind, even if 
my proud spirit is humbled a little. No one will 
know my object. Order the carriage and I will go 
and call upon her; and I mean to use her as a tool 
to help work out my plans.” 

In less than an hour Fannie was seated in the 
spacious parlor of Dr. Lawrence’s grand mansion. 
Dr. Lawrence was Bertha’s only uncle, and he and 
his wife thought as much of her as though she had 
been their own child. It was a great pleasure to have 
her at their home, and they prevailed upon Mr. and 
Mrs. Vanalstine to allow her to spend part of each 
year with them ; and so her winters were usually 
spent in their hospitable home. After the usual 
greeting was over, Bertha exclaimed : 

“How you have changed, Fannie. How beauti- 
ful you look to-day. I don’t wonder Mr. Morrison 
fell in love with you, when he was out here this 
winter. Whether he was in love or not I can’t say 
for sure; anyhow, he spoke of your great accomplish- 
ments and beauty.” 

“You are acquainted with him, sure enough;” 
replied Fannie, with a surprised expression upon her 
face, as though she was unaware of the fact until it 
was mentioned. 

“Acquainted with him! I guess I am. I have 
known him ever since I can remember; with the 
exception of one or two years, I have seen him very 
often.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


121 


“He is a very agreeable acquaintance, isn’t he?” 

“I think he is just grand. I love him as dearly 
as I would a brother. He is always right at home 
when he comes to our house.” 

“ Perhaps you love him more than you would a 
brother,” said Fannie, watching every change of 
Bertha’s features, to see if she could detect a deeper 
attachment than that of a friend. 

“ Mercy, no; we never dreamed of such a thing as 
caring for each other, anything more than dear 
friends and advisers. I guess he lost his heart while 
he was visiting in this city, for his mind seems to 
hold in it two objects of beauty, but just the opposite 
types. I don’t know which one it is; but one thing 
I do know for certain, it lies between yourself and 
Gertrude Scrivener.” 

“I presume it is Gertrude, for he met her at 
Louisa’s and she is a little butterfly of a thing that 
most every one likes for a time, but they soon tire 
of her simple ways.” 

“ I don’t agree with you there ; for really I love 
Gertrude, and we were always on the most inti- 
mate terms. I haven’t seen her in some time. She 
may have changed, but I venture to say she has 
not.” 

“ Have you seen Louisa Van Benthusen and Maria 
Underwood, yet?” asked Fannie. 

“ Oh, yes; I sent my cards to them as soon as I 
arrived in the city and also to Gertrude. You know 
we were such great friends that I did not stand back 


122 


LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 


for ceremony with them. I just an hour ago received 
a lovely little note from Gertrude, saying she would 
call this very afternoon. I expect her every moment.” 

“Why did you not send me your card and treat 
me the same as the other girls, Bertha? Excuse me 
for my familiarity in using your given name. You 
remember we were old friends at school, and so I 
take the liberty.” 

“ I would have been most happy to have sent you 
one; but, thinking you did not care to renew the 
acquaintance, and as we were never on very intimate 
terms like the other girls, I did not feel as though I 
could, with propriety, take the liberty to request 
your call. But if I am in fault and have acted wrongly, 
I hope you will overlook the feeling that prompted 
me to say what I thought.” 

“ Certainly; for I am as much to blame as you are. 
But now I trust in the future you will consider me 
as one of your best friends, and feel the same toward 
me as you do toward them.” 

“ I am not as distinguished as most of your associ- 
ates, and have neither beauty nor gift of language to 
compare with you; but if you really enjoy my com- 
pany and wish me to be your friend, I will be happy 
to become such.” 

“I do enjoy your society more than I do the idle 
chattering of some of my most distinguished associ- 
ates,” said Fannie, with a bland smile upon her face. 

“ I am glad if you do,” responded Bertha. 

Fannie had thought so much about Mr. Morrison, 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


123 


and, stimulated more by rivalry than anything else, 
feelings of the most passionate love were fast taking 
possession of her heart; and although she knew 
that he was fascinated with her when in her presence, 
yet she was well aware that outside of that she held 
no claim upon his heart whatever, for he had not 
declared his love in any way. Still, she felt that 
her chances held good, for he said he would return 
again in the spring-time. Then would be her time 
to conquer and to draw him to some conclusion. 
Knowing that in the meantime Bertha would return 
to Cincinnati, and if she succeeded in gaining her 
esteem and good-will there would be a time when 
she could speak in her praise to Mr. Morrison, she, 
with these thoughts, courted Bertha’s friendship at 
every possible chance. After an unusually long 
call, Fannie rose to go. As she walked to the door 
she remarked, “I will see you at Judge Wether- 
spoon’s party to-morrow evening, no doubt; and then 
I will present you to all my distinguished friends 
that have lately arrived in the city.” 

“ I shall surely attend. I mean to make the most 
of all the parties and gaities of this season. Winter 
will soon be over and I shall take great interest in 
watching all the flirtations and manceuvering that is 
going on among the young people that I know, and 
others that I don’t know, as well.” 

“Yes, and indulge in them yourself at the same 
time,” said Fannie, with a quiet laugh. 

“ Certainly, I will, if I can find any one that thinks 


124 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

my face good-looking enough to be struck with me. 
At all events, I am going to try.” 

At the door, Fannie bent over and kissed Bertha 
good-bye and then took her leave, promising all 
sorts of pleasurable events whereby to keep her con- 
stantly in her society to accomplish her designs. 

When Fannie returned home, her mother met her 
at the door and addressed her thus : 

“You look very much pleased. I guess your 
call must have been an enjoyable one after all.” 

“ I did enjoy it, after a fashion. No great plea- 
sure I can assure you, but it is policy for me to 
make a great parade over her. She is one of that 
kind that loves to be thought of and made of. It 
took lots of flattery, but I guess I have struck her 
favorably.” 

“ Didn’t I tell you that wonderful things may 
result from it ? Now you must make little parties 
and invite her often to tea and dinner, and drive out 
with her, and you will see if she won’t do you 
enough good to pay for it all.” 

“ Y ou are right. She is one that can be led by 
the nose without much difficulty.” 

“ I told you so. She is a card you can play and 
win a good stake with, if you only go about it in 
the right way. That was the reason I wanted you 
to go and call. It requires much skill to attain com- 
plete success. You will conquer, yet.” 

“ Do you suppose he is engaged to that Gertrude 
Scrivener ?” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


125 


“Not he.” 

“ I believe he is.” 

“I don’t. What makes you think so?” 

“ Because Bertha said that he spoke of her a good 
f*eal.” 

“He is no fool, to engage to that silly thing.” 

“ Bertha said almost as much as though he was 
engaged to her.” 

“ Don’t you believe it.” 

“Well, when he comes again, I will give small 
parties • and very often, so that I can devote my 
special attention to him; and by making elegant 
appearances wherever I am invited, it will attract 
his attention. Most men admire a lady that is 
dressed elegantly.” 

For a long time this scheming mother and 
daughter sat, until the conversation was hastily 
drawn to a close by a servant announcing some 
callers, and handing in the cards of Louisa Van 
Benthusen and Maria Underwood. 

Fannie went immediately to the parlor and greeted 
her guests in a manner unusually cordial for her, 
for she was generally as cold and distant as though 
she was obliged by necessity to see them. After 
they had conversed for a long time on various sub- 
jects, Fannie said she had just been to call upon 
Bertha Vanalstine and expressed how much she had 
changed, and improved in appearance since last 
winter, and finished by saying she was “just in love 
with her.” 


126 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


“She is one that can always find friends wher- 
ever she is,” replied Louisa, “ and,” added she, “ her 
disposition is one to be envied. She is so unselfish 
and ready to do any one a favor that may ask.” 

“Yes, and always speaks kindly of every one. I 
shall do all I can to make her visit a pleasant one,” 
said Maria. 

“ So shall I,” said Fannie. “ I will introduce her 
to every one that is stranger to her, at the party to- 
morrow night, for she is going.” 

“ Then, you are going ?” replied Louisa. 

“ Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it for any- 
thing. Charles D’Chauncey will be there and he is 
a noted lawyer, or gentleman of leisure I guess, 
from California, spending a time at his cousin’s, 
Mrs. Goodwin, and a widower at that. A good 
catch for some one, and he is rich, too. Besides him 
there are others of note that will be present.” 

“ I expect it will be a brilliant affair and largely 
attended,” responded Louisa. 

“ I hope so,” answered Fannie. 

Just then Maria thought of the other calls they 
were to make and turning to Louisa, said : “ Do 
you not think we must go ? We have made quite 
a lengthy call.” 

“ Yes, for our time is limited and we have a num- 
ber of calls yet to make.” And so they took their 
departure. 

All went on well and the evening of the party 
arrived. The stylish mansion was well filled with 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


127 


pleasure seekers. Wealth, beauty, vanity, pride, 
envy, hatred, jealousy, avarice, love, honor and con- 
fidence were the passions that animated the bosoms 
of the gay assembly. The glitter of rich jewels, 
the costly array of silks, velvets, satins and laces, 
were here displayed in endless variety. The genial 
Judge and his fair and beautiful wife greeted the 
guests with pleasant words and bright smiles. All 
seemingly happy and joyous in their own way, 
never heeding the hours that were rapidly speeding 
on. 

In one part of the parlor, gaily chatting, are 
Charles D’Chauncey, Bertha Vanalstine, Lieut. Har- 
bottle and Fannie Schaydell. 

“ Who is that charming young lady conversing 
with our hostess ?” inquired the grand Charles 
D’Chauncey of Fannie Schaydell. 

“ That is Louisa Van Benthusen.” 

“ Ah ! she is the young lady I have heard spoken 
of so many times. I should be proud to know 
her.” 

“ Come, then, I will introduce you to her, if you 
wish me to,” replied Fannie. 

“ You will do me a great favor,” responded he. 

They walked across the room and advanced 
toward Louisa and then Fannie presented them to 
each other, and before the evening’s gaities were at a 
close, he was in raptures over her loveliness and 
deeply in love with her sweet voice, for it seemed 
to charm his very soul, like soft strains of music. 


128 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

Near by stood Col. Thornburg and Maria Under- 
wood laughing and jesting, while in the next room 
was Gertrude Scrivener, fresh and lovely. She did 
not wish to go to-night, but Capt. Breckenbridge 
had just arrived in the city and insisted upon her 
accompanying him. She did so and was not sorry. 

Gertrude never looked more beautiful than she 
di'd then in her pure white dress of figured silk, 
with the tiny pink buds at the neck and in her hair. 
And then, what made her look so much more lovely 
was the thought that she was loved by one that had 
asked her to be his bride. What was all that gay 
throng of people to her ? They bore no attraction 
for her, for without his company she felt out of 
place. Yet he was far away, and the thought that 
he would come again in the spring cheered her into 
happiness, and she knew that she would realize the 
fondest hopes of her heart. Still, for all she felt 
happy in these thoughts, there was a shade of sad- 
ness in her expression as though something told her 
that a dreadful fate was hers. Among all the elegant 
dressed gentlemen and their display of jewels there 
was none among' them all that looked as good and 
noble as did her Frank, and oh ! how she longed 
to see him. 

Fannie watched her every move with a jealous 
eye, and toward the close of the party, whilst Capt. 
Breckenbridge and Gertrude were dancing, Bertha 
came near to Fannie, saying: 

“I do think Gertrude Scrivener is just lovely; 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


129 


she is so gentle and modest. How graceful she is! 
I never knew she was half so beautiful before. Yet 
I always thought her fine-looking. I know Capt. 
Breckenbridge thinks her just right by the admiring 
glances he casts upon her. But I have been told 
that she is engaged to Mr. Morrison, and they are 
to marry before another year has fled.” 

Bertha did not notice the look of malice that 
flashed over Fannie’s countenance as she was prais- 
ing Gertrude, nor did she dream of the designs that 
Fannie had planned in her heart. 

At length the evening’s engagement was over. 
The dance and the sweet music had ceased. The 
lights were all extinguished and the scattered guests 
were taking repose. Bertha did not once suspect 
that by her conversation concerning Gertrude, she 
had unintentionally aroused the demon within the 
heart of Fannie, who vowed that if Mr. Morrison 
gave his love to Gertrude, she would come in be- 
tween her and her prospective happiness if it cost 
her a life. Conquer she must, and she would in 
spite of fate. 

“ She shall not win,” said Fannie, to herself, in the 
silence of her own chamber. “ I will dash the cup 
of happiness from her lips even if it takes her life 
and casts a shadow of gloom upon him forever. I 
believe he does love her; but ’tis strange what he 
can see in her to love. None shall know that the 
proud Fannie would condescend to love when it is 
not returned, but he shall never have her for his bride.” 
9 


130 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

About Gertrude there was none of that false glit- 
ter or desire to display and fascinate. Unlike Fan- 
nie in every respect, she cared not to be a leading 
star in the firmament of society. Neither was she 
wrapped up in the rounds of dissipation. In her 
home, intelligence and refinement reigned supreme, 
and her brightest dream of life in its bloom, gave 
a bright tinge to her future destiny, as she quietly 
went on with her preparations for the coming event 
that would be the crowning glory of her existence. 
But with all these happy thoughts came strange, 
sad feelings, that cannot be fathomed.. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


131 


CHAPTER X. 

THE FIVE FRIENDS. 

“ OOD afternoon,” said Louisa, as she met Ber- 

\JT tha Vanalstine on the avenue and shook 
hands with her. 

“ I was just going to call upon you.” 

“ Were you ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Well, then I’ll turn back and we will go to- 
gether.” 

“ No, no,” said Bertha ; “ I can go some other 
day.” 

“ I was intending to call upon you this afternoon 
any way, for I wanted to make some kind of 
arrangements about spending the evening with Ger- 
trude Scrivener to-morrow. It is her birthday 
night, you know.” 

“ Sure enough. It will be just splendid,” replied 
Bertha. 

“ I thought it would be nice to give her a little 
surprise, for we haven’t had an opportunity to meet 
in a long time all together.” 

“ Have you seen Edith Silverthorn since her return 
home from her Southern trip?” 

“Oh, yes; several times.” 


132 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“Have you called?” 

“Yes; mother and I called the very next day after 
she arrived.” 

“ Isn’t she good company?” 

“Splendid!” 

“What a delightful visit she must have had at the 
sunny South, and how well she looks. The climate 
must have agreed with her.” 

“She looks better than I ever saw her before; 
and,” continued Louisa, “she is just the same loving- 
hearted friend as she ever was. New forms and 
faces have not made any difference with her friendli- 
ness toward us. Generally, when a person goes 
away for so long, in a different place, they get so 
wonderfully raised up, that they don’t recognize 
their former acquaintances; but Edith is none of 
that class.” 

“ That is so.” 

“ What a nice visit we can have at Gertrude’s.” 

“We always do.” 

“ There is something about the very atmosphere 
of Mrs. Scrivener’s neat, little home, that brings out 
the purest and best feelings of our nature; and who 
can help enjoying themselves?” 

“ I know it, and they are ever the same. I never 
saw either of them perplexed or out of temper.” 

“Nor I.” 

“What a stock of patience they must have, to 
endure so much?” 

“It is remarkable, to be sure!” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 1 33 

“ Did you know Mrs. Scrivener had purchased the 
elegant property of Stephen Snodgrass?” 

“No! When did that happen?” 

“ Only a few days ago.” 

“And are they going to move soon?” 

“ Next week.” 

“So soon as that? Is it possible? Where are 
Mr. and Mrs. Snodgrass going?” 

“Why, Mr. Snodgrass is dead.” 

“Dead!” 

“Yes, he was buried just the day before you 
came.” 

“ His death must have been sudden. Wasn’t it?” 

“ It was.” 

“Where is Mrs. Snodgrass going to live; or is she 
going to board?” 

“My, no! She is going to live with an old aunt 
of hers, several miles from Boston, out in the 
country.” 

“ Isn’t that a queer notion, with so much money 
as she has?” 

“ She has no money.” 

“What has become of it? I thought they were 
abounding in wealth.” 

“They were once; but they have been living 
beyond their means to such an extent that she is 
reduced to beggary. Mr. Snodgrass died without a 
will, and everything, even to her jewelry, was taken 
away from her for debt.” 

“ Well ! well ! that is a great surprise to me.” 


134 LOUISA van benthusen; or, 

“It was so to me; but it serves her right, for she 
was always running on poor people and trying to 
harm them. I remember that, one day long ago, 
she tried to make mischief between Mrs. Scrivener 
and us.” 

“She did?” 

“Yes; and she used to sneer at her, and call her 
a poor dressmaker; and now, to think, Mrs. Scrive- 
ner is wealthy and has purchased their grand home. 
It is too good for anything. A judgment on her for 
talking and acting so unkindly.” 

“ Maybe Mrs. Scrivener will not care for company, 
if they are going to move so soon.” 

“ Oh, yes, she will ; for they have not disturbed 
anything yet, and that was the reason I proposed 
visiting once more in the little cottage before they 
leave it, for it will be some time before they are 
settled, and I have reasons to believe that there will 
be many changes before Gertrude has another birth- 
day.” 

“ Why do you think so ? Is it true that she is 
going to be married ? I heard it last night several 
times.” 

“Yes, and it will not be a long time before the 
happy event takes place, that will make her a rela- 
tive to me.” 

“ Fannie Schaydell asked me if I knew for sure 
last night, and I told her I did not, but that I had 
heard it. By the way, Fannie was quizzing me and 
sending messages to Frank. I thought probably 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 1 35 

she was his affianced. Let that be as it may, I can 
see she is interested in him.” 

“ But it will do her no good,” said Louisa. 

“ I hope not,” replied Bertha, “ for she is not capa- 
ble of being a true friend to any one. She used to 
slight me and treat me very unkindly when at 
school, but she called upon me when I came to 
Auntie’s and asked me to be on social terms with 
her, and I promised I would ; resolving to be as 
polite and good to her as I could. She is a brilliant 
conversationalist and a most superb figure. I never 
saw her look handsomer than the day she called 
upon me. I would be glad to love her and take her 
into my confidence, but I am afraid to trust her. 
If she only would try and be more kind and agree- 
able, what lovely times we might have at her elegant 
home.” 

‘‘Yes, Fannie has talent of a high order and is 
fine-looking. If she was only as good at heart as 
she appears, we would all love her, but, alas ! poor 
girl ! I fear she will be the ruin of herself, yet.” 

“ Of course you are not going to ask her to join 
our party to-morrow night, are you ?” 

“ By no means. Just we five long tried and 
faithful friends. We can have a good, quiet even- 
ing, and we will ask Maria Underwood and Edith 
Silverthorn. They will enjoy it, I know.” 

“ Of course they will.” 

“ I have often thought that something might hap- 
pen before they get settled in their new home, and 


136 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

we might not all have a chance to visit among our- 
selves. It is best never to put off. If you do, it 
generally brings regrets with it.” 

“ Very true. When shall we ask the other girls ?” 

“ Suppose we go now, and call upon Maria and 
ask her to go with me to invite Edith. When we 
all assemble together we can make our plans all 
satisfactory, and decide upon what kind of a little 
token of our love we can present to Gertrude.” 

“ That is the very idea. Let us go at once.” 

In half an hour the three young ladies were seated 
in the drawing-room of Edith’s pretty home, telling 
her what they proposed to do, and asking her to 
join them. She agreed, and soon all plans were 
arranged satisfactorily. 

Edith Silverthorn was a tall, graceful figure, deli- 
cately organized, refined and sensitive. She had 
been to Washington after returning from Florida, 
and there spent a part of the winter, and returned 
home filled with the life and gaiety found so readily 
in that city and at that season. 

Bertha Vanalstine was a perfect blonde ; a little 
below the medium height, but excellently propor- 
tioned ; plain in her tastes ; practical in her views ; 
always ready for a good time whenever opportunity 
offered. 

At half-past seven o’clock of the evening ap- 
pointed, while Mrs. Scrivener was busy reading, 
and Gertrude sat at the centre-table looking over 
some stereoscopic views that her brother Charlie 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


137 


had sent her from the west, showing some of the 
beauteous scenery in and around the city which he 
now called home, a rap came at the door. Gertrude 
arose and hastily opened it, and was surprised and 
pleased to see standing before her two of her dear 
friends. The greeting was of that kindly nature 
which only the dearest friends can use with each 
other when their hearts are inspired with the most 
tender and affectionate emotions of truth and piety. 
Soon another rap came, and when Gertrude an- 
swered the call she was very happy to see the 
remaining two of her intimate and confidential 
friends. It was plain to be seen that it was a con- 
trived plan, but Gertrude took the surprise in a 
very enjoyable manner, remembering it was her 
birthday. They were all soon seated in the cozy 
little parlor, where they had ofttimes met before, 
and the pleasures of the evening were soon in pro- 
gress. 

“ What a relief it is to meet once again and pass a 
social evening together under your hospitable roof, 
Mrs. Scrivener. Just we five dear friends. It re- 
minds me of by-gone days. What lovely times we 
used to have when at school,” said Edith. 

“ I wish we could have them over again. It 
seems to me when a person leaves school, then is 
the time they begin to know care and trouble,” 
answered Gertrude. 

“ Yes, indeed,” replied two or three voices at the 
same time. 


138 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“ Do you remember the night we graduated and 
the good times we had ? There is scarcely a day 
passes by, but that I live over them again,” said 
Louisa. 

“ Yes,” responded Gertrude, “ God has been merci- 
ful to us and spared our lives and given us good 
health, and how thankful we ought to be.” 

“ Let us make an arrangement to meet on each 
anniversary of our Commencement,” suggested 
Maria. 

“ It would be just grand,” joined in two or three. 

“ Supposing we do,” spoke out Bertha ; “ it will 
keep it ever fresh and green in our memories.” 

“Agreed,” chimed in all voices. 

“ No matter how far away any of us are; let us 
have regular invitations and make it a point to meet 
and celebrate that great event,” said Louisa. 

“ But, girls,” said Gertrude, “ did you ever stop to 
think that something might happen to prevent? 
So let us enjoy the present and let the future take 
care of itself. You know it is in the hands of the 
All Merciful disposer of events, and should time 
bring misfortune or trouble to any of us, we will be 
better able to withstand all trials. We cannot al- 
ways expect fair skies, so let us enjoy the sunshine 
while it lasts, and if we are all alive and well when 
that time draws near, we will celebrate it.” 

“ Why, Gertrude,” said Louisa, “ what ever put 
you in mind of such sad thoughts ?” 

“ Nothing, only you know such strange things 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


139 


happen. But we will banish that from our thoughts 
to-night, and so saying, she arose and from one cor- 
ner of the room, brought forth a guitar that her 
uncle had bought in New York and presented to 
her. This she placed in Edith’s lap, saying : 

“ Come, Edith, let’s have one of your old songs.” 

“ I will, providing you will favor us with one after- 
wards.” 

“ I will.” 

“ What shall I sing ?” 

“Anything you wish.” 

So running her fingers over the strings, she sang 
in a sweet, soft voice : 

“ I cannot sing the old song 
I sung long ago, 

For heart and voice would fail me 
And foolish tears would flow. 

For bygone hours come o’er my heart 
With each familiar strain ; 

I cannot sing the old song, 

Or dream those dreams again. 

“ I cannot sing the old songs, 

Their charm is sad and deep ; 

Their melodies would waken 
Old sorrows from their sleep ; 

And though all unforgotten still 
And sadly must they be, 

I cannot sing the old songs, 

They are too dear to me. 

“ I cannot sing the old songs 
For visions come again, 

Of golden dreams departed 
And years of weary pain. 


140 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


Perhaps when earthly fetters shall 
Have set my spirit free, 

My voice may know the old songs 
For all eternity.” 


Just as she had finished singing, Mrs. Scrivener 
opened the hall door and entered the room, saying, 
“ Here is something lovely that a little boy brought 
a few moments ago at the same time handing 
Gertrude an elegant silver basket filled with the 
choicest selection of bright flowers and geranium 
leaves, with a little note written on rose-tinted paper 
that read as follows : 

Dear Schoolmate and Friend : 

Please accept as a birthday gift, this simple token of our love and 
esteem. Hoping you may have many happy returns of the same 
event, is the sincere wish of your true and faithful friends. 

Louisa Van Benthusen, 
Edith Silverthorn, 
Bertha Vanalstine, 

Maria Underwood. 

Gertrude’s heart was so full of gratitude for so 
unexpected and beautiful a token, that was so em- 
blematic of the pure and undefiled hearts of the 
givers, that she could not express her thoughts as 
they crowded her mind. 

At length she said, “ Words cannot express my 
feelings in befitting terms for such a handsome pres- 
ent. I thank each one of you a thousand times for 
it, and many more times for your true and lasting 
friendship that has clung to me through all my 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. I4I 

changes of circumstances. God help us to long 
keep up our affection for each other.” 

Later in the evening, while they were laughing 
and jesting, Mrs. Scrivener again entered the room 
and invited the young ladies to walk out into the 
dining-room. They did so, and were soon collected 
around a table abundantly loaded with cakes, candies, 
oranges and nuts, that Mrs. Scrivener had, upon 
short notice, prepared for them. It was a pleasant 
surprise, even to Gertrude, and in perfect good taste 
and keeping with the occasion. As they sat, gaily 
laughing and chatting over their refreshments, the 
globe on the large lamp that stood in the centre of 
the table suddenly snapped, broken into many pieces, 
which fell promiscuously over the table. 

One piece, as it fell, cut a delicate, white rose-bud 
from a bouquet that stood at one side of the lamp, 
and the bud fell upon Gertrude's plate. 

“ Just see,” cried Bertha, who sat next to Gertrude, 
“ did you ever know anything so strange !” 

“ Never,” said one. 

“ What is it ?” said another. 

“ Why,” said Bertha, as she held the little bud in 
her fingers up so they all could see it, “ it cut this 
little rose-bud as clean as though it had been done 
with a knife.” 

“ Isn’t it strange,” said Maria, and, added she, “ if 
we were any of us superstitious, we might think it 
was a forewarning of some sad event that is to befall 
some of us.” 


142 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


“ But, we are not superstitious,” responded Louisa. • 

“ People say it is a bad sign,” suggested Bertha. 

“ Nonsense,” replied Edith. “ I don’t believe in 
signs.” 

“ Nor I,” answered Maria. 

“ But,” said Gertrude, “ we can’t tell what may 
happen. The world is full of sorrow, but at present 
our lives seem to be crowded with sunshine and 
happiness, and we must trust in God for a continu- 
ance of the same.” 

That night, when each came to bid good-night to 
Gertrude, there was a strange feeling connected with 
the parting that told them that the breaking of that 
globe and the cutting off of that tiny bud was full of 
meaning, even though they all disowned a feeling of 
superstition, yet they felt it keenly, and each one on 
going home said she thought they would not ever 
again celebrate a birthday night together. For that 
reason, the parting was keenly felt by each one. And 
so it was, for ere the close of another year, their feel- 
ings of that night proved prophetic. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


H3 


CHAPTER XL 

DREAMS OF THE FUTURE. 

“ QEE, mother, I have a letter from Cousin Frank; 

0 it came a few minutes ago,” said Louisa, as she 
entered the boudoir, where her mother was reclining 
on a sofa. 

“Ah! indeed,” replied the mother, smilingly. 

“What do you think he says?” 

“I can’t imagine. What can it be? Anything 
important?” 

“ One of the most important events in his life, I 
venture to say. Just let me read the letter to you.” 

“Do.” 

So, taking it from her pocket, she read as follows : 
My Dear Cousin : 

It has been some time since I received your welcome letter, but I 
have been so busy I really could not spare the time to write until 
now ; and even now business is very brisk, and we are in the midst 
of our spring opening, and the prospects are very flattering for .a fine 
trade. You will be surprised, no doubt, when I tell you that, in just 
two weeks from to-day, I will be with you. I did not intend to 
come until June, a few days before the happy event that will make 
Gertrude Scrivener my wife. But I have so arranged my business 
that I can leave it for a time, and thus give me a little space for 
recreation and rest. 

Mr. Goodes will not arrive until the last of June. At that time 
our marriage will occur, and upon the same date. We have made 


144 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


our plans for a trip up the lakes, which, I think, will be as pleasant as 
any other we might choose. We are both fond of boating, and so 
it justs suits all around. I hope this will find you all well. Give 
my love to Auntie and Uncle, and keep a good share for yourself. 
Write soon, and ever believe me your affectionate cousin, 

Frank Morrison. 

P. S. — Mr. Goodes sends his kindest regards. 

F. M. 

Louisa had no sooner read the letter than she 
turned and looked out of the window and saw Ger- 
trude coming up the walk, so she slipped the letter 
back into her pocket and ran out to meet her, saying: 

“ I am so glad to see you. Come right in and 
take the easy-chair. You look very tired. Are you 
ill?” 

“No; but I am very much fatigued.” 

“ I suppose you are all settled in your new home, 
by this time.” 

“ Nearly so.” 

“I fear you have been working too hard; haven’t 
you?” 

“ I have done more than I ought to, I suppose, 
but I shall have lots of time to rest now. It is such 
a job to move and fixup everything. I had no idea 
it was such a task, but by Saturday night we will be 
all through, I hope.” 

“ I am so glad,” said Louisa, “ you have moved, 
for I just had a letter from Cousin Frank, and he will 
be here soon, and I want you to get rested before he 
comes. I expect I am not telling you any news ?” 

“ No, I had a letter yesterday from him, and he 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. * 1 45 

said that he would be here about the 10th of 
May.” 

“ Isn’t it nice to think he is coming soon, so that 
we can have some good visits ?” 

“ Yes, I am delighted with the prospect of seeing 
him.” 

“ There are so many places where we can go. We 
will take advantage of every opportunity we can get 
any enjoyment out of, won’t we ?” 

“ By all means. Oh ! by the way, just as I came 
up the avenue I saw Bertha out driving with Lieut. 
Harbottle.” 

“ Did you ? I wonder if they were going out to 
the farm ?” 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ How devoted they are to each other, are n’t they? 
I believe it will make a match.” 

“ So do I.” 

“ He is a splendid young man. Of course, he is 
not very well off, but he is in a prosperous business 
and will likely do well. Everybody likes him, so it 
won’t matter so long as they love each other and 
have plenty of friends, he will get along, I war- 
rant.” 

“ Bertha has enough money for both.” 

“ I know it, and she is just the very one that can 
enjoy it, too.” 

“ She is very liberal, and one of the best-hearted 
girls I ever knew.” 

“ That is so.” 


IO 


146 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 

“ I wonder what has become of Edith ? I have 
not seen her for several days.” 

“ Oh, they have a house full of company, and I 
suppose her time is all occupied.” 

“ If that is the case, it is, to be sure. I know when 
we have visitors at the house there is so much to do 
to entertain them properly. I wonder what has be- 
come of Alban Law ? I never hear her mention him 
now.” 

“ Why, her people were bitterly opposed to the at- 
tachment that sprung up between them, and they kept 
scolding about it so much that finally they broke up 
their friendship. Edith told me all about it a few 
days ago. She said she thought the world of him, 
and it made her feel wretched sometimes, because 
she never heard from him. They both seemed suited 
to each other, and it was a regular love affair. I 
believe he loves her yet, and so does she love 
him.” 

“ That is not to be wondered at. Where do you 
suppose he is now ?” 

“ The last I heard about him after he left this city, 
he was in Philadelphia.” 

“ He is far enough away, that is one thing certain.” 

“ I remember the day that he came to this place. 
Mr. Bonepart hired him as head clerk and brought 
him to his house to board. I was spending the after- 
noon with Carrie that day, and I met him at tea. I 
thought he was just handsome, and as witty and 
smart as he could be. They all liked him first-rate. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


147 


I can’t see what Mr. Silverthorn’s people had against 
him.” 

“ I don’t know, I’m sure. Col. Thornburg waits 
upon her now altogether.” 

“ Yes, but I don’t think they care a straw for each 
other.” 

“ Don’t you ?” 

“ No.” 

“Why?” 

“ Because they act so indifferently with each 
other.” 

“ That is no sign. Sometimes they are the very 
ones that do care for each other.” 

“ ’Tis very true, but seems to me, it is such a dis- 
tant love.” 

Just at that moment Gertrude drew from her 
pocket the letter from Mr. Morrison, and also 
another from Charlie. As soon as Louisa caught 
sight of the elegant chirography on the back of one 
she knew it was from Charlie, but before she had 
time to speak, Gertrude said: 

“ I have a letter from Brother Charlie. In it he 
sends his love to you and wants to know if you have 
forgotten him.” 

“Ask him why does he not write to me and find 
out.” 

“ Shall I ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Anything else ?” 

“ Send my love,” 

i 




148 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“ He will be delighted, for his whole thoughts 
seem to be of you in this letter.” 

“ That seems queer.” 

“ Why should it?” 

“ Because he has never, all this long time, men- 
tioned me to any extent before.” 

“ Well, I know, but we were so much together ; 
maybe he expected to hear from you first.” 

In this manner the conversation ran on until the 
afternoon was almost spent, and as it drew near to tea 
time, Gertrude bade good-evening, and returned to 
her new luxuriant home ; thus leaving Louisa in a 
happy frame of mind with fresh material for thought 
and consideration. 

When Gertrude reached home, she sat down in 
her own room and mused upon the good times in 
store for her; and she tried to drive away the 
dreadful feelings that had haunted her like a vision 
for weeks. She knew that the time was not far dis- 
tant when the loved one of her heart would be with 
her, and that but a short time intervened between 
the day of his arrival and the date of their marriage. 
She thought of the beautiful dresses that she had 
with her own delicate fingers made and hung away ; 
of the pretty assortment of laces, ribbons, ties, gloves 
and handkerchiefs of the latest and handsomest 
designs, besides numerous other articles that go 
toward making up an elegant and costly outfit. 
All these were carefully put from sight. The wed- 
ding dress of pure white satin and real Valenciennes 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


149 


lace-trimmings was wrapped up in blue paper and 
laid away in a trunk, together with gloves and other 
articles to wear with it. Then came thoughts of 
her elegant home and the number of dear friends 
she would invite to witness the ceremony. Charlie 
would be home, and what a grand time was in store 
for her. 

“ Ah, how happy I shall be !” said she to herself. 
“ Everything is done and I am waiting. Yes, wait- 
ing for him to come.” 

Over and over again she thought of her future 
destiny. Over and over again she would ask her- 
self the question, “ Can it be I am to have this hap- 
piness, or can it be I am only dreaming ? Some- 
how it seems a love so sweet it cannot last. But, 
ah, me ! here is the letter,” and she drew it from her 
pocket and read it over again and again. “ My 
darling,” he says. “ Yes, it is all so, and I am really 
to be his bride. He loves me, but no more than I 
do him. If anything should happen to prevent it, 
it would kill me. But how foolish I am to think of 
such a thing. What could happen ? Why should 
anything happen to rob me of the day star of my 
existence ? Have I not suffered untold agonies 
already? I will put these thoughts from me, for I 
must rest and not show a single trace of these awful 
feelings that invade my mind ; or he may think I 
do not love him.” 

So for days and days the contest of sad 
thoughts strove to shut out the sunshine, but they 


150 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

were finally overcome, and love conquered in the 
argument. As the day drew near for Mr. Mor- 
rison to come, all the sadness was cast aside and 
Gertrude was as happy as thousands of others have 
been when waiting to greet the loved one of her 
heart. Just a little while and she would be his 
bride. Days gave place to weeks, and they passed 
rapidly by, and the day came at last and Mr. Morri- 
son came also. 

It was one of those genial May mornings when 
the weather was of that voluptuous, vernal kind, 
which brings forth all the romance of a man’s tem- 
perament and fills his mind with music and poetry. 
Everybody was in good humor and everything 
around looked lovely. The sky was clear. The sun 
flings abroad not only a gladdening splendor, but 
almost a summer glow. 

A merry group gathered at the depot to wel- 
come Frank, and never did the world look brighter 
to Gertrude than at that moment, nor life more sweet 
in the dim future. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


151 


CHAPTER XII. 

BLASTED HOPES. 

T HE joyous days since Mr. Morrison arrived in 
the city were passing rapidly by. There was but 
one week more before the night of his marriage with 
Gertrude Scrivener, when invitations came to at- 
tend a reception at Senator Rudolph’s, in honor of 
the return of his only daughter, Blanche, who had 
been in Italy for two years perfecting herself in 
music. 

When Mr. Morrison spoke to Gertrude about the 
reception, she decided to attend, and accordingly 
her note of acceptance, accompanied by that of 
Louisa Van Benthusen and of her cousin, was duly 
sent in return. 

As this would be the last entertainment at which 
Gertrude would appear before her own marriage 
took place, she looked forward to it with a great 
deal of joy, knowing that immediately after it was 
over invitations to her wedding were ready to send 
out. Preparations were at once made and soon 
everything was in readiness. At length the evening 
of the reception came and brought with it many 
bright anticipations. Sounds of music were borne 


152 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

on the night wind, joyous laughter and hearty wel- 
come fell from the lips of the young and gay. 

The guests had all arrived and proud parents 
cast upon their children many an admiring glance. 
Mr. Van Benthusen, in particular, looked upon his 
daughter as she glided about endeavoring to do her 
share toward promoting the enjoyment of the various 
strangers that were present upon this brilliant oc- 
casion. Among the large number of guests was 
Gertrude Scrivener, with her sweet, pale face that 
would remind one of the Madonna, so pure and 
gentle. Now and then she looked up into' the 
handsome face of her lover, as if she was deriving 
much pleasure from the mere fact that he was by 
her side. At one corner of the room sat Col. Thorn- 
burg conversing with Maria Underwood and several 
other elegantly-dressed ladies, while a few steps to 
the right stood Mr. Goodes, lightly jesting with 
Bertha Vanalstine and Lieut. Harbottle. 

As usual, Fannie Schaydell was the centre of an 
admiring crowd of distinguished persons, who were 
elegantly attired with diamonds flashing and spark- 
ling upon their persons. Noted foreigners, grave 
statesmen, wily politicians were drawn to her side 
by her brilliant conversation. The pleasure-seek- 
ing man of wealth lingered by to watch the actions 
of this queen of fashion. Fashionable exquisites 
were attracted to her by the glitter of her diamonds 
and her bright smiles. Sparkling thoughts uttered 
in language of elegance flowed from her lips. For 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


153 


all this attention, yet she was not happy, for across 
the room she saw Mr. Morrison standing, with the 
fair face of Gertrude Scrivener upturned to his, 
whilst from his eyes gleamed the light of love that 
could easily be detected. 

Fannie did not dream that he was so soon to wed 
Gertrude. She had heard it, to be sure; but she 
considered it as idle gossip, and so she said within 
herself, “ I’ll cause a gulf to open between them 
before this night is over. Ah ! he don’t know that 
Gertrude’s mother was a dressmaker; that has all 
been kept from him ; but he shall know it ! and proud- 
spirited as he is, he will abandon her, I know. I 
have studied him through and know him well.” 

Just at that instant, Edith Silverthorn noticed 
Fannie standing alone with an absent, dreaming 
expression upon her countenance. As it was some- 
thing very unusual to see her standing for a single 
minute alone, much more with such an expression 
as if in thought, she approached her, saying : 

“It is something so new to see you alone and 
unoccupied with the attention of some noted person, 
I thought I would come and disturb your reverie. 
Your thoughts seem to be afar off Has anything 
gone wrong with you?” 

“Nothing at all. I was just thinking,” replied 
Fannie, feeling keenly the fact of any one noticing 
that she lacked the attention of the gentlemen pres- 
ent for even a short time. 

“ I guessed right, then,” said Edith. 


154 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“You did, for a fact.” 

“ Have you seen Louisa, this evening,” inquired 
Edith, at the same time turning around and catching 
a glimpse of Frank Morrison and Gertrude looking 
at a large oil painting that Miss Rudolph had brought 
from over the waters. She did not wait for Fannie 
to reply, but added, as she softly touched her upon 
the arm, as if to call her attention more particularly 
to the scene: 

“Just see! Frank Morrison perfectly worships 
Gertrude Scrivener.” 

“ Maybe he does and maybe he does not,” replied 
Fannie. 

“A great many have spoken about it this even- 
ing.” 

“ If you think he loves her, you will find out you 
are laboring under a false impression.” 

“Why so?” 

“ Because he don’t.” 

“ Oh, yes ! he does, Fannie ; they are engaged and 
are very soon to be married.” 

“ When ? I wonder.” 

“ I venture to say it may be next week.” 

“You can’t make me believe that! It is too 
much like cologne water — ‘ to smell of but not to 
swallow.’ ” 

“ But it is true ;” persisted Edith. 

“ He will never wed her,” replied Fannie, growing 
white with rage, but keeping her temper well con- 
trolled. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 1 5 5 

“ Yes, he will ; I can see in every glance and word 
that he perfectly idolizes her.” 

“ That may all be ; but she will never be his 
bride.” 

“ What makes you think so?” interrogated Edith. 

“ In the first place,” replied Fannie, growing more 
calm ; “ he is very high-spirited and loves rank and 
social position; and just as soon as he finds out she 
is the daughter of a once common dressmaker, that 
will end it all.” 

To the foregoing speech, Edith, almost convulsed 
with laughter at the very idea of a man with good 
common sense refusing to marry the idol of his 
heart, because she was once obliged, through mis- 
fortune, to earn her support, was about to reply, 
when she saw Fannie retreating with a gentleman to 
another part of the house. At the same time, 
Louisa Van Benthusen advanced toward Edith, 
gracefully leaning upon the arm of Charles D’Chaun- 
cey. A pleasant conversation followed for some 
time and all seemed lively and gay. 

As time glides on, and all seem to be enjoying 
themselves in various ways, it is hard to describe 
moods ; but later in the evening different scenes 
transpired that affected the entire after-lives of two 
parties, who were at the beginning of the evening 
filled with bright and happy anticipations. How 
very often at these gay assemblies, where all seems 
pleasure and happiness, many a by-scene occurs that 
does not meet the eye of the gay crowd ; but it has 


156 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

its crushing weight ready to fall upon the lives of 
some who least suspect it ! 

Gertrude Scrivener, who is filled with a great joy, 
all her own, has slipped softly into the hall and sat 
down for a few moments upon the soft, velvet-carpeted 
stairs. There she could, for a minute, indulge in 
bright dreams of the future ; for it was only a few 
minutes ago that Frank Morrison breathed into her 
ear words of love and tenderness, regretting that the 
time was so long to wait — a whole long week — be- 
fore he could call her his bride. But she told him 
of her love for him ; prompted by pure heart devo- 
tion, she had grown so attached to him. His loving 
looks, his pleasant and gentle ways, his tender 
caresses, his quick, firm step and kind voice charmed 
her. She felt that no sweet dream could ever be 
more enjoyable than to linger by his side. She had 
not remained there long before Fannie, who had 
watched her opportunity, led Mr. Morrison to a place 
where the words she would make him utter would 
fall directly upon the ear of Gertrude, and deaden 
the sunny smile that had been carried upon her face 
all the evening. Ah ! how cruelly was the innocent 
Gertrude’s reverie broken by the following conversa- 
tion : 

“ Mr. Morrison, I suppose you, of course, must 
wonder what our society is coming to, to meet so 
many common people at the homes of our most 
aristocratic families. Why, there are daughters of 
washerwomen, dressmakers, and all that common 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


157 


class of folks, dressed up in silk and jewels to tiy 
and catch some wealthy gentleman, and thereby get 
a handsome home, as well as possess a handsome 
fortune !” 

“ There are none such here to-night ; if there were 
I could soon pick them out ; society cannot fool me 
much on the real and artificial ladies.” 

“ I don’t think you can tell them, Mr. Morrison, 
for there are just such here this evening. Now, just 
supposing you should meet some one that you 
thought was beautiful and good, and should fall in 
love with her; and her poor mother, but a short 
time ago, was toiling until all hours of the day and 
night, making dresses for the fashionable city ladies, 
just to get fine clothes for her daughter to make a 
show with in the world of fashion.” 

“ That could never be, for I am particular whom 
I fall in love with ; that does not occur very often 
with me, I can assure you ; but, as you say, we are 
supposing such a thing possible.” 

“ But, Mr. Morrison, just supposing again that you 
really had done such a thing, would you marry her 
if you knew it?” 

“ No, never. I would never marry any woman of 
whom people could say in years to come, that she 
was ever obliged to work for a living ! Not that I 
think it any disgrace at all, but more honor than 
anything else to do so when reduced in circum- 
stances. Yet I have position, and am capable of 
placing the lady that I shall marry in the foremost 


158 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

ranks of society ; and no one shall ever point out 
my wife as the daughter of a working woman. It 
would make me blush with disgrace and mortifica- 
tion.” 

“ I know,” replied Fannie, “ but even Congress- 
men and many distinguished men marry beneath 
themselves.” 

“ Then they are not as particular as I am, or would 
be ; for if I have a weakness for anything, it is pride 
of position.” 

“ But, supposing you idolized her, and she was 
lovely in person, and accomplished and refined in 
mind, would you then marry her ?” 

“ No ! I would discard her forever from my heart. 
My pride is too deep to yield to love. I would 
reject her even if it was just on the very verge of 
my marriage. But what an idea ! We are talking 
as earnestly as though it was a real occurrence in 
my life.” 

If the haughty, cruel-hearted Fannie had asked 
and answered the questions all herself, they could 
not have been more satisfactorily answered. The 
remarks hit just where she wanted them to, and had 
just the effect she wished, but they sent a dagger 
to the heart of Gertrude, as Fannie had intended. 
When the conversation had drawn to a close, Mr. 
Morrison remarked to Fannie: “ I must go and find 
Miss Scrivener and have her join us.” 

Fannie well knew where she was, but made no 
reply, as though she was also anxious to find her, 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


159 


and made demonstrations toward searching for her 
as they walked away. All the while Gertrude’s 
heart was sickening as if a serpent had stung her, 
and it was ceasing to beat. She felt as if her very 
heart-strings would break, so filled was she with 
pain and anguish. Presently she rose to go to the 
dressing-room, almost falling in the effort, but finally 
succeeding in reaching the door and opening it, she 
found one of the waiting-maids there. She asked 
her if she would assist her home, as she felt very 
sick; and as it was but a short distance to her 
mother’s home, she could slip away and not let it 
be known, lest it would mar the happiness of some 
of the guests. The waiting-maid placed her light 
shawl about her, and just as they were ready to go, 
Louisa Van Benthusen and Bertha Vanalstine hap- 
pened to run up to the room and met her at the 
door. Noticing her death-like countenance, the two 
young ladies, shocked as they saw her, exclaimed 
in the same voice: 

“ What is the matter ? Are you sick ?” 

“ I feel very ill ; but I will get over it after a 
while.” 

“ Oh, dear Gertrude,” said Louisa, “ let me run 
down-stairs first and get Cousin Frank to see you 
home.” 

“ No ! no ! Louisa, dear, do not. It is my wish 
that you do not. He is happy — let him be so.” 

“ But you do not know how ill you look !” 

“ It was sudden. Very sudden. But I’ll feel bet- 


l60 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 

ter when I get out into the fresh air. I shall be 
better to-morrow, if I am not to-night.” 

Louisa and Bertha insisted on accompanying her 
home, and did so with Gertrude’s consent. It was 
about twelve o’clock when they reached her home. 
Mrs. Scrivener sat waiting, but was not expecting 
her quite so soon. When she saw the ghastly 
whiteness on her daughter’s face, she sprang to her 
feet and exclaimed : 

“ My dear child ! what is the matter? You are 
sick, I know !” 

“ It was all because you took in dressmaking. 
That is the reason I am ill, and it has been the 
means of killing me.” 

“ You are out of your head, Gertrude ! What 
can be the matter ?” replied Mrs. Scrivener. 

This strange remark was a profound mystery to 
all that heard it, and an anxious glance passed from 
one to another, as if to inquire of each the meaning 
of the words. 

“ I believe I am ; I feel strange — very strange. 
Bathe my head with water ; let me lie down here.” 
With these words she sank down upon the sofa and 
burst into a flood of tears, saying at intervals : — “ I 
was so happy ; but all my bright dreams of the 
future are ended. Ah , yes, ended forever.” 

In the meantime, the servant ran for a doctor, and 
when he came and gave her medicine to calm her 
nerves, she soon fell asleep. 

Mrs. Scrivener, Louisa and Bertha could not un- 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. l6l 

derstand what was the cause of these strange ex- 
pressions. They talked about it, but could not find 
any direct cause for them ; and after a while the two 
young ladies returned to the gay scene. Louisa re- 
lated what had occurred, to her cousin and to seve- 
ral most intimate friends, and they left the brilliant 
gathering enjoying the festivities of the evening, and 
returned home, wondering what could have hap- 
pened to have caused Gertrude such a stroke of 
unhappiness. Mr. Morrison could scarcely wait 
until morning dawned, to find out what was the true 
cause of her illness. 

At length, after a long time, Gertrude woke from 
her deep sleep, and upon seeing her mother sitting 
beside her she reached out her white hand and said : 
“ This is more than I can bear.” 

“ What, child ? What is the trouble ?” 

At her mother’s eager questioning she recalled 
the scene, and told her how happy she was in the 
thought of being married to Frank Morrison — how 
she loved him — of the conversation that took place 
in the hall-way — how she had listened to hear the 
words that shut out all the sunshine from her heart 
forevermore. “ Every hope of mine,” said she, “ is 
now blighted in the bud, and I feel a fearful pain in my 
head and heart that I fear I can never overcome.” 

“ My dear child, don’t talk so wildly !” pleaded 
the anxious mother, with a painful expression upon 
her face, bending Over and kissing the pale cheek 
of her only daughter, who was again sleeping and 
II 


1 62 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

breathing heavily. As she looked upon her pallid 
countenance she gave way to weeping, and every 
now and then she burst forth in piteous accents, 
“ This is grief beyond all I ever expected !” Then 
her thoughts flew back to all her past trouble ; but 
this seemed to fall with a crushing weight upon her. 
In sad reflections the hours crept slowly by ; not a 
sound was heard to break the stillness that pervaded 
the room, save the loud ticking of the clock. At 
last, morning dawned upon the sleepless eyes of the 
mother, while Gertrude still slept — but of her in the 
next chapter. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


163 


CHAPTER XIII. 

STRUGGLES OF A BROKEN HEART. 

A S soon as Gertrude woke and found herself 
alone, she prayed to her Heavenly Father to 
give her strength to accomplish the hard task that 
lay before her. Her face was as white as marble, 
and she looked, as she clasped her delicate hands 
over her breast, as if death itself had already released 
her spirit from its sorrow. Her thoughts were 
active, though she showed no outward sign that she 
was living over the whole of her past life. 

First, she thought of how her mother had watched 
over and taught her, and the many happy hours she 
had spent with her young companions. Next, she 
thought of the footpath along the silvery brookside, 
and how she used to loiter along the hawthorn hedge 
and picture out her life in the future as she wished 
it might happen. Then came fond recollections of 
happy childhood ; days spent in the country; the old 
mill that stood beside the wide-spreading stream ; the 
bridge that spanned the high rocks, beneath which 
the cataract fell ; the orchard full of golden fruit; the 
deep-tangled wildwood ; the barren waste where the 
tangled beds of juniper grew ; the meadows where the 
ox-eyed daisies blossomed. Then came the memory 


164 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

of her school-days, the night she graduated, and the 
Sabbath-day when she was baptized and united with 
the church, while her heart was overflowing with 
pure and holy emotions. 

All at once sad, soft strains of music fell upon her 
ear, as if chanting the requiem of a broken heart ; 
and now memory steals back to the days of infinite 
bliss to the little brown cottage, where words of 
ardent love came crowding into her brain and filling 
her heart with happiness too sweet to be of long 
duration. Lastly, came the conversation in the hall- 
way, and the anguish of her broken heart. Then, 
as she placed her hand upon her brow, she piteously 
cried : “ Yes, I loved Frank with a depth of devotion 
that was next to idolatry. This is my punishment 
for worshiping him more than my God. But ’tis 
all over. The struggle is past. We have been so 
thoroughly happy; we have conversed on themes 
of varied interest; we have opened to each other 
the temple of the soul; and now we must yield 
to that high degree of fate and part for life. Must 
the silver cord be severed that was binding each to 
the other with the strength of affection and the full- 
ness of hope? If so, let Heaven’s best will be 
done !” As she murmured to herself this last word, 
she covered her face with her hands and wept bitterly. 

In her hair were the little white rosebuds that 
Frank had admired so much, and as the thousand- 
and-one memories of the past flooded her brain, 
mingled with the rest were thoughts of the bridal. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


I6 5 

Reaching out her hand and taking the buds from her 
hair, she looked at them for a moment, and said: 
“ I will put them away as a memento of the happiness 
I realized when Frank said, ‘they were emblematic 
of purity, like the wearer.’ I know it is foolish for 
me to cherish them thus, but when they are withered 
and dead, it will be emblematic of my blighted hopes.” 
As she was thus sadly musing, her mother came into 
the room, and seeing that she was sitting up, said : 

“ I am glad to see you so much better, my dear 
child ! Come, sit here by the window and look out 
upon the beauties of returning Spring. The leaves 
and plants are fast developing into perfection.” 

“ Yes, mother, the wild emotions of my heart are 
calmed now ; and I think I am better prepared to 
endure my disappointment than I was before.” 

“ I was greatly alarmed about you last night ; I 
was afraid that your sensitive nature had had too 
severe a shock ; but I am glad to see you are re- 
covering from it. You will be better in a few days. 
Frank was the first one this morning to come to see 
you, but you were sleeping ; and he said he would 
come again in an hour. He seems so grieved, and 
begged to be permitted to see you. I told him he 
might, when he came again, if you were awake.” 

“ Yes, I will see him. I will be able to dress by 
and by. When he calls, I want to tell him that our 
bright dreams of the future can never be realized.” 

“ I would not try to say .anything yet, my child, 
about it to him. I am afraid you have not the 


1 66 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

strength to do so, and it might cause you a hard 
struggle. He is truly distressed and wants to tell you 
so. You will not deal harshly with him, Gertrude, 
dear.” 

“ I will be very gentle with him, mother, and as 
for strength, I prayed to my Heavenly Father to give 
me strength, and he has given it to me. I would 
rather tell him now and have it ended ; for my 
strength may not be so great nor so capable of at- 
tempting the task if I wait, so I would rather do it 
when I see him.” 

As Frank had said, he called in an hour. When 
the bell rang, and Gertrude heard his familiar step 
and soft voice in the hall, she knew it was he, and so 
she told her mother to show him into the room 
where she sat, and then leave them alone. 

In the meantime, Gertrude had robed herself in a 
plain black dress that fitted her perfectly. Around 
her neck she wore a little white lace handkerchief, 
crossed, and fastened with an opal pin ; and placing 
a rose-bud in her hair, with a geranium leaf, she 
seated herself in a large, easy chair, as if waiting for 
him to come. 

As he entered the room and saw her pale face and 
such a sadly sweet expression upon it, he trembled 
with fear. He came up and took her tiny white 
hand into his own, and pressed it to his lips, saying : 

“ Darling, I hope you are better to-day ; you don’t 
know how anxious I was about you ; I never closed 
my eyes in sleep a moment all night. Why did you 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 1 67 

not let me know that you were ill last evening, so 
that I could have seen you home ?” 

At that moment he drew his chair close to hers, 
and gazing tenderly into her beautiful face, imprinted 
a kiss upon her brow, that was as white as marble, 
and continued, saying : “ It frightens me to see you 
so pale ; but, darling, it will soon be my privilege to 
watch over and take care of you. Would to God it 
were now !” 

“ Frank, you can never have the privilege of watch- 
ing over my welfare/' was the reply of Gertrude 
Scrivener, in a firm, but piteous voice, that told the 
tale of a broken heart. 

These were the first words that she had spoken 
to him since he entered the room ; but her expressive 
countenance spoke plainer than words, and keenly 
did her looks pierce the heart of the affianced hus- 
band as he looked at her with a vacant stare. 

“You talk madly! You are out of your head, 
when you talk thus, my darling.” 

“ If I only were deranged, instead of in my calm, 
clear senses, maybe it would be better !” 

“ What do you mean?” 

“ I mean that I can never be your wife.” 

“ What !” 

“ The very words I have just uttered.” 

“ You will drive me mad with such words — God 
help me!” cried he, in a state of anguish. 

“No, no! Frank, calm yourself. You see I am 
reconciled — it is God’s will !” 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


168 


“ What have I done ? O God ! What have I 
done,” cried he, “ to cause you such sufferings ; 
that you treat me so cruelly?” 

“ Frank, you are all that is good, noble and lov- 
ing to me. But, alas ! fate has opened a deep and 
broad gulf between us, that cannot be spanned, and 
that gulf parts us for life !” 

“ There can nothing come in between our love to 
destroy it and part us forever — unless you have 
ceased to love me !” 

“Ah! Frank. Cease to love you? Never! I 
would as soon forget to breathe as to forget to love 
you, but — ” 

Then she paused, and a paler shade overspread 
her face while Frank remarked: 

“ There is nothing that can separate us but death. 
Nothing, darling, if you love me. You are the light 
of my existence. Life, without you, would be abso- 
lutely a dead blank !” 

“ Your own words have separated us.” 

“ My words ! What were they?” 

“ Did you not say to Fannie Schaydell, last even- 
ing, that you would forsake your bride even on the 
eve of marriage, if you should learn that she had 
ever worked to earn her support? Yes, you said 
that even if it was just before the minister pro- 
nounced you man and wife — or words to that 
effect.” 

“ I did ; but what has that to do with our mar- 
riage ?” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


169 


“ I am the daughter of a once hard-working and 
poorly-paid dressmaker. Many a day and night I 
have toiled to help earn our humble living.” 

“Your mother — a dressmaker! Merciful Heav- 
ens ! One so refined and talented as she ?” 

“ She was.” 

“ Why did she do it ?” 

“ Because she was obliged to.” 

“ I cannot see why. With such an education as 
she possesses !” 

“ Well, she did. I will not go into details, for it 
makes no difference, as she did it, and there is no 
use in rehearsing the oft-told tale of misfortune, to 
explain these things more definitely.” 

“ Louisa never told me this !” 

“ Did she not ?” 

“ No.” 

“I only wish she had'; it would have saved all 
this grief, which is not yet ended.” 

“ But, Gertrude, I love you, and cannot give you 
up in this instance. My pride must yield to love. 
So cast away all this gloom from your brow, and let 
me see you smile once again as of yore.” 

“ Never will I become the wife of one whose brow 
would blush with shame for my sake — forget me I 
beseech you, as though I had never crossed your path.” 

“ I cannot. I will not,” said he with a tremor in 
his voice, and a face as white as the driven snow. 
“You must not treat me thus ! Forgive me, I pray 
you. You have decided too hastily.” 


170 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“ No, Frank, I have thought it all over well, and 
God only knows what it has cost me to assume this 
calmness.” 

“ You must not decide to-day. Wait,” said he, 
pleadingly, as he rose from his chair and paced the 
floor. Then, suddenly pausing before her, he said, 
“ You must think it all over and I will call again 
to-morrow and you will not then forsake me, I 
know.” 

“ It is no use, Frank. It is all over. Just look 
at me ; see what a change one night of suffering has 
done for me. I thought my heart-strings would 
break when I heard your answer to Fannie Schay- 
dell’s questions in the hall. She well knew I was 
there, for her face was the last one I saw when I had 
seated myself on the stairs, and she saw me and it 
was scarcely a minute before she brought you there 
and drew words from you that have killed me. I 
long ago felt that something would happen and it 
has come and taken all the light out of my life for- 
evermore. I can never overcome, or recover from 
the dreadful shock.” 

“ God help' me, darling, I wish that my tongue 
had been paralyzed rather than utter words that 
would cause you such torture ; but I will come 
again to-morrow.” So saying, he leaned over and 
kissed her pale cheek several times and then went 
away. 

As soon as he had gone, Gertrude rose from where 
-she sat and walked to the window and watched the 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. \*]\ 

form of him she loved, slowly wending his way 
down the avenue. 

For a long time she stood absorbed in sorrowful 
thoughts, until her mother came in and broke up 
her reveries. Fearing that it might fatigue her to 
stand so long, she rolled an easy chair beside the 
window, and requested Gertrude to sit down, which 
she did, uttering no complaint nor imparting to her 
mother the terrible malady that was preying upon 
her heart. But tear after tear meanwhile fell silently 
from her eyes. She could not speak. Too full was 
her heart with grief. 

The shock which she had received was the means 
of destruction to her ideal world and was indeed 
cruel. Fainting and shaken, at first was her tender 
frame, but she sought, like the stricken deer, to 
weep in silence and brood alone over the torturing 
sorrow that rankled within her soul. She felt a 
conviction that she was fast hastening to the 
tomb, but she looked forward to it as a place of 
rest. The silver cord that had bound her to 
existence was loosened, and it seemed as if all 
the life had been drained out of her heart, soul 
and body forever. 

Her mother noticing a change in her countenance 
threw open the window to let the soft air steal in 
upon her, and then clasped her child’s hands in her 
own and looking with mute anxiety over the fading 
blossom of her hopes, still thinking that the flush 
upon her cheek might be the reviving of freshness 


1/2 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

and returning health. But she did not know that it 
was the first indication of a serious disease. 

The day dragged slowly by and toward evening 
Gertrude said she felt as she never before had, but 
yet she thought that in a day or two she, perhaps, 
would feel better. All the time she was exerting 
herself in every way, so that her mother might not 
detect the poniards that were dipping away at her 
heart’s-blood, and preparing her for an early grave. 

At about five o’clock Gertrude retired to rest, and 
soon fell into a deep sleep in which she breathed irreg- 
ularly and heavy, and the quick contractions of her 
features every now and then bore evidence that she 
was suffering. When her mother saw that she was 
likely to rest all night, she repaired to her own room 
and there knelt down and thanked God that He had 
spared her life thus far, and prayed for a continuance 
of His blessings that would restore her beloved 
daughter once again to health and happiness. Then 
she retired to sleep, getting up very frequently, how- 
ever, and creeping softly to the door of her daugh- 
ter’s room to see if she was still sleeping. Each 
time as she gazed upon her and saw that she was 
resting quietly, she went back feeling that she would 
be well again as soon as the nervous shock had 
passed off. She felt, too, that time only could re- 
store her, and that all that was required besides the 
physician’s instructions was quiet and rest. 

At about six o’clock the next morning, when Mrs. 
Scrivener went to her daughter’s room again to see 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


73 


her, she was completely overcome to find that within 
the last hour since she visited her bedside, a burning 
fever had developed itself. The over-taxed nerves 
had at last yielded to a greater power and she was 
in a perfect delirium. A physician was immediately 
summoned, and when he came and looked upon her 
for a moment, he said that her nerves were all un- 
strung, and that she was prostrate under a severe 
mental shock, but he hoped to be able to prevent 
inflammation of the brain, that might in all proba- 
bility develop. 

No one knew what that mother suffered as she 
lingered and watched by the bedside of her darling 
child. In her wild state of mind she would, in most 
touching tones, refer to the conversation in the hall 
that was the means of dashing from her lips the cup 
of happiness so long cherished, and she would call 
loudly for her brother who was away in the distant 
west. He had been telegraphed for, and was on his 
way to the scene of anguish, but it would take many 
long hours to bring him to the bedside of his stricken 
sister. 

The mother did not watch alone, for Louisa Van 
Benthusen was first to throw aside the gay parties 
and companions and repair to the sick chamber, and 
cool the fevered brow of her dearest friend as she 
raved in her wild delirium. Frank Morrison, in his 
room, would pace the floor until his feelings were so 
worked up that he could no longer remain there and 
then he would put on his hat and go to the home of 


174 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

his affianced bride, and there sit in silence, like one 
devoid of reason. 

The clouds grew darker and all seemed discourag- 
ing, but strong hope gleamed within his breast and 
no great obstacle or outward darkness could quench 
the light of that fervent hope until he stood face to 
face with stern reality. Now and then he would go 
to the sick-room, but the piteous tones of Gertrude’s 
voice, as she repeated some of the disconnected 
thoughts that were uppermost in her mind, would 
melt him to tears and he would feel forced to leave 
the room. 

Days of weary watching dragged by, and there 
were no signs of returning reason. Mrs. Scrivener 
had given up all hopes of Gertrude’s recovery, for 
now she did not even recognize her, nor any of the 
loving friends that clustered about her bedside wait- 
ing in breathless anxiety to know the result. 

Her brother had arrived and immediately went to 
his stricken sister. As he looked upon her wasted 
countenance and saw the fire of a bewildered brain, 
he kissed her over and over again, but she knew 
him not. Often she would cry out: 

“Oh my! Why don’t Charlie come ?” 

“ I am with you, dear sister,” answered her brother. 

She heeded not his reply, and only raved the 
more with the burning pain in her head. While 
her brother sat beside her bed, his thoughts wan- 
dered back to the beautiful image of loveliness, just 
blooming into womanhood, that he had left months 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


175 


ago, and the change that had called him home was 
too much for him. Strong as he was, he wept like 
a child. 

While thus weeping, the door opened and a soft 
sweet voice that he had oft heard in days gone by, 
fell upon his ear, and looking up through his tears, 
he recognized the features of his favorite friend, 
Louisa Van Benthusen. He at once arose and 
grasped her hand in his, and even in this sad hour 
he said : 

“ My dear friend, I am so glad to see you.” 

“ Thanks,” said Louisa. “ I have been expecting 
you every day.” 

“ You have been so kind to come and watch by 
my sick sister, and to help comfort my mother in 
her affliction, for which I thank you a thousand 
times.” 

“ No thanks are required, Charlie ; I only wish I 
could do more,” said Louisa. 

“ I have come to relieve both of you, but it is too 
much to think she does not know me. How 
strangely she talks. What does it all mean ? I 
cannot understand it, and I do not know what should 
have caused her such a sudden illness.” 

“ I will tell you,” replied Louisa, “ all about it, 
but not now, for it would take too long, and then I 
had rather wait until some other time.” 

Just then the doctor came into the room and said, 
as he felt of her pulse: “ There will be a change to- 
night for better or worse. But prepare for the 


176 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

worst. I am afraid that medical skill is of no avail ; 
but if she should get into a calm sleep, you can 
entertain some hope.” 

With these words, “ prepare for the worst,’' ring- 
ing in their ears, Mrs. Scrivener and Charlie watched 
anxiously every motion. A few dear friends also 
gathered by the bedside to keep vigil over the 
lovely form of Gertrude Scrivener. Every little 
change ; every motion ; every breath, seemed to 
promise for the best. Toward midnight the fever 
gradually left her, and soon she fell into a peaceful 
sleep. Great was the joy to the anxious watchers, 
for now they felt that the crisis was over. She was 
really sleeping, and by morning she would be better. 
At length, Louisa proposed that Mrs. Scrivener 
should go and take a little rest, while she would sit 
the rest of the night and, if any change took place, 
she would call her. Louisa requested Charlie also 
to lie down and sleep, lest the fatigue of his long 
journey might make him ill. But he refused and 
insisted on sitting with her lest she might get 
lonely. 

Thus sat these two friends, in whose hearts 
warmer feelings than that of mere friendship existed. 
They talked in subdued tones in the quiet of the 
sick-room, and who can tell the emotions that 
thrilled their hearts into deep love for each other, 
as they sat there, sharing each other’s griefs, and 
talking over the past. The morning, bright and 
clear, dawned upon them, and Gertrude still slept. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


m 

• 

The household was aroused and was told the glad 
news. All seemed favorable, according to the physi- 
cian’s predictions. Words cannot describe the joy 
that filled the hearts of Mrs. Scrivener and Charlie, 
and of all the kind and loving friends that had 
lingered by, till bright hopes began to appear, and 
they felt that it now required time only to accom- 
plish the perfection of health and of happiness, and 
as she still slept quietly on, still greater encourage- 
ment was found. 



12 


lyS LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE MESSENGER OF DEATH. 

r HEN Gertrude woke from her long sleep and 



saw Louisa sitting by her side, it seemed as 


if all the preceding day’s torture had been a dream, 
and she remarked in a low voice: 

“ I thought I heard Charlie talking just a moment 
ago. It woke me up out of a sound sleep, it was so 


real.” 


“You did hear him, Gertrude, dear,” replied 
Louisa, “he is here.” 

“Where! tell him — ” 

“ Right here by your side, dear sister,” said 
Charlie, as he rose from where he sat and approached 
the bed where she lay. 

“ How did you happen to come? I have been so 
sick, Charlie. Did you know that I was sick?” 

“Yes, sister, I knew it,” said he, as he bent over 
and took her hand and kissed her over and over. 

“You have been very ill. I was afraid that you 
would never be able to speak to your brother again. 
But, thank Heaven ! you are better now, and you 
will soon again be blessed with health and happi- 
ness.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


T 79 

At this remark, Gertrude smiled. She knew only 
too well that he was laboring under false ideas, and 
she wished to prepare him for less encouraging 
thoughts; so she said, after a brief pause: 

“No, Charlie; I can never be the same joyous 
girl I was when you bid me good-bye and went to 
the west to make your home. I have been very ill, 
and I cannot tell you all I would say now, but when 
I get stronger I will tell you all.” As she spoke a 
tear came forth and glistened in her eye and fell 
upon the snowy pillow upon which her fair head 
rested. 

The doctor came early, and though he felt that he 
was working with but a single thread of life, yet he 
faithfully attended to his duty, and in answer to the 
anxious inquiries of the mother and brother he said: 

“ If you give her your utmost attention and most 
careful nursing, she may have a change that will 
prove favorable. But her hold on life is but slight. 
She may recover, but be watchful. I can give you 
no encouragement, but I will do all in my power.” 

Several days later she seemed better. The physi- 
cian called very frequently and gave his directions 
and began to entertain the least shadow of hope. 
Her pulse and temperature seemed more natural 
than they had since he was first called to attend her. 
As the hours sped on, Mrs. Scrivener and Charlie 
and the many anxious friends that clustered about 
were all inspired with the fullest hope, and joy began 
to reign once more in the house that had for several 


180 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

days been so deeply in gloom. She began to act 
more natural and to talk at intervals with those 
around her, and she seemed quite like herself. One 
day her brother Charlie tried to amuse her by de- 
scribing the western country, his new home, and the 
strange and beautiful scenes he had seen, so different 
from anything in the Eastern States. He spoke also 
of the kind friends he had met and the different ways 
of the people, adding that, when she was able to 
journey, he would take her with him, so she could 
meet all of his good-hearted and kind western friends. 
She listened with interest to all he had to say, and 
when he had done, she looked into his face with a 
sweet smile upon her countenance, and said: 

“ No, Charlie, I shall never see your western 
home, or meet those kind people you speak of. I 
feel that I am drawing nearer and nearer to the 
grave. Do not think, dear brother, that I shall get 
well. If it were not for dear mother and yourself, I 
would gladly die to-day, for all the bright and 
joyous hopes of my youth have been crushed out 
from my life forever. Yea, forever! never on this 
earth to return.” 

This was the first indication that Charlie had 
noticed to convince him that his sister was out of 
human reach. No power on earth could save her, 
and amid a flood of tears he responded : 

“ Don’t talk so, sister, dear. You are very weak, 
now. Why do you say these words ? By and by 
when you gain your strength you will feel less de- 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 1 8 1 

spondent. There is one that loves you besides your 
mother and I, and he cannot be reconciled to give 
you up. He inquires every time any of us come 
from your room, to know if there is some word for 
him. He sits near your door all the while. He 
just seems to live with the hopes of your recovery 
and restoration to him. Yes, he does love you, 
Gertrude, and surely you would not let the words 
drawn from him by an artful, scheming woman 
make a division between hearts that were so united 
as yours and that of Frank ?” 

“ They have told you the story. It is a sad one. 
I love him, but God’s will be done.” 

“ Yes, they have told me all about it. Mr. Mor- 
rison told me, himself, while the great tears filled his 
eyes and trickled down his cheeks. You cannot 
tell the anguish that is sapping the very blood from 
his heart. He begged to see you and I could not 
evade his earnest entreaties, and so I told him if 
you were better to-morrow you would see him. 
Won’t you, dear sister, and speak kindly to him ?” 

“ Yes, I will see him, but not to-day, for I am 
tired now and I fear I have exerted myself too long 
talking ; but I did not want you to flatter yourself 
into the belief that I will get better. I feel so bad 
right here,” and she placed her hand upon her heart 
and then closed her eyes as if sleeping. 

“ My darling sister, it almost kills me to hear you 
talk thus. Why do you ? I am sure you are bet- 
ter, are you not ?” 


182 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


“A little, I guess.” 

“ Yes, sister, you are, I hope.” 

“ Maybe so, but don’t hope too surely.” 

With these words trembling upon her lips, she 
fell away to sleep. Even then she looked as if 
death had set its seal upon her and her frail spirit 
was released from all its sufferings. But she still 
breathed and slept. 

As her brother gazed upon her calm, pale brow 
and saw the rigid, death-like countenance, his former 
hopes that she was better and that she would soon 
return once more to health, vanished away, and he 
began to feel more seriously that the words she had 
just uttered was only a warning of the short time 
she would have to stay with them. As soon as 
Louisa came into the room Charlie went in search 
of his mother. He found her in her own room, 
with her hand to her head as if in deep thought. 
As soon as she saw the sad change in her son’s 
countenance, that had hitherto been wreathed in 
smiles at the thought of his sister’s returning health, 
she feared that he felt a conviction that the angel of 
death was hovering near by their home. At length 
he said : 

“ Mother, I fear Gertrude is worse.” 

“ Why ?” exclaimed the terror-stricken mother, at 
the same time hastening toward the door of the sick 
chamber, pursued by Charlie, who persuaded her to 
come back, for Gertrude was sleeping and Louisa 
and Maria Underwood were watching over her. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 1 83 

“ Tell me ! is there any change,” inquired the 
mother, “ and why do you think she will not get 
well ?” 

“ I don’t know, but I feel it keenly. It came to 
me all of a sudden — like a cold chill. Her body is 
too weak and her heart sympathizes so with her frail 
body, that I am positive there is little or any chance.” 
He then related all she had said to him and her wish 
to see Frank Morrison ; “ so,” said Charlie, “ when 
he comes this evening, tell him that if she is better 
to-morrow she will see him.” 

At his regular time Mr. Morrison came, and when 
Mrs. Scrivener told him that he might see her the 
next day, as she wished to speak to him, he felt a 
little at ease and waited restlessly for the next day to 
come. He had lost much sleep, and like a wander- 
ing refugee, he went from the house of Mr. Van 
Benthusen to that of Mrs. Scrivener’s at all hours 
and times. This had been a hard struggle for him 
and he was fast giving way under its pressure. He 
had now grown very thin and pale, and his only 
conversation was about Gertrude. Fannie Schaydell 
would often meet him, but he avoided her as a rep- 
tile, and well did she know what it was for. 

Now comes to him the memories of past days ; 
how Louisa had cautioned him against cultivating 
the society of one who, she said, would be the means 
of his destruction. He had laughed at the idea of 
such a thing and would not believe it ; but he be- 
lieves it now, Often to himself he repeats : “ I 


184 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

was to blame. I was warned of her cruel aims, but 
I heeded not. God help me ! she has killed my 
bride and her death will render me incapable for 
business, or anything else.” 

Again the physician came, but he shook his head. 
There was no hope now. The long evening wore 
away and Gertrude still slept on. The morning 
dawned, and yet no change save that she was weaker. 
As the day advanced, she asked for some breakfast. 
She had taken very little nourishment for days, but 
a delicate breakfast was at once prepared and she 
ate ravenously, until Mrs. Van Benthusen entered 
the room in company with Mr. Morrison. After a 
few words, the room was left to Gertrude and Frank 
alone. As he looked upon the bed and saw the 
wasted form of all he held dear on earth slowly pass- 
ing away, he took her hand, that was as white as the 
spread upon which it rested, and knelt down by the 
bedside and pressed it to his lips, while the burning 
tears came into his eyes and dropped upon her hand. 
She saw that he loved her. She was deeply moved 
and said in a low, tender voice : 

“ Don’t cry, Frank. I cannot endure to see you 
suffering so. I know it is hard. It was a severe 
blow, but never mind, don’t cry.” 

“ I will try not, for I have tortured you, my dar- 
ling, more than I can tell already. You will forgive 
me, won’t you, dear ? and henceforth it will be my 
only desire and aim in life to make you happy ; sor- 
row shall never come to grieve you if I can avoid it.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


85 


“ I know, Frank, that you love me, but no more 
than I do you. You are all that is good and noble- 
hearted, but I cannot hold your love long. I feel 
that I am going to my heavenly home. I can almost 
see the pearly gates and the streets with golden pave- 
ments. Sometimes I fancy I hear the angels sing, 
and I feel so happy, then, until the pain in my heart 
makes me realize that I still live. But I know it is 
only for a little while. That is the reason I wanted 
to see you, dear Frank, as soon as I was able to 
speak, for I could tell you how the bright and glori- 
ous light of your love cast its beams over a part of 
my life, and akin to that is the perfect love that I am 
hastening to win in the realms of eternal bliss. 
There is no pain there ; no sorrow to mar the happi- 
ness I shall inherit.” 

“Oh, my darling! my own! Do not talk thus to 
me. I cannot bear it. You are young and your 
years will bring you better days before you die. 
There are many bright anticipations' for you to 
realize.” 

“ There is one anticipation, a glorious one, dear 
Frank, that of Heaven; and the clouds that have 
rested over my pleasant dreams in life are only now 
dispelled by hopes I have in my heavenly home 
above.” 

“ Gertrude, darling one, won’t you try and live 
for me ; for your poor stricken mother, and weep- 
ing brother ? It will drive me to distraction to lose 
you ! It cannot be ! It must not be ! Without 


1 86 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

you my life would be nothing. You are the 
guiding-star of my existence !” he exclaimed with 
great passion. “ If you leave me alone it will shut 
out all the hopes of my heart forever.” 

“ Frank, see here ; let me reason with you. You 
must not feel that way. Ever let this be a warning 
that you listen not again to the voices that would 
lure you to destruction. Live, Frank ! There is a 
duty you owe to your country and your God. Live 
to perform those duties. Do not let the little life 
within me make your life sad, but let it inspire you 
with higher, nobler hope, and when the poor Ger- 
trude Scrivener sleeps quietly in her grave, look 
back and remember the love she gave you, and the 
last request she made. Ever remember that I love 
you, and will keep a guardian watch over you while 
you are pursuing your duties, and when your life is 
done, and you prepare to cross the beautiful river, 
waiting, I’ll stand at the gate to welcome you.” 

As she spoke thus, her slight, pale form resembled 
some angel of love and mercy sent down from 
Heaven to guide the weak and wayward. 

Frank gazed upon her placid, spiritual beauty, 
and listened to the great calmness of her passionate 
words until she had finished speaking, he then ex- 
claimed: 

“ Why am I tortured like this ? Darling, when 
you have passed from my sight, my memory will be 
the only thing that I can live to inherit. It hovers 
over me like a dark shadow. Can it be that you 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 1 87 

must really die? No, no; you must not die. You 
must live for me. It will drive me out of my senses 
to have you snatched from me so cruelly.” 

“ Do not rave so, Frank. Let God’s will be done. 
You know His way is best, and our parting here is 
only for a little while. Cheer up ; soon again we 
will meet where partings are no more, and where 
no tears are shed or sorrow is felt.” 

Frank could restrain no longer, and broke com- 
pletely down in tears, whereupon Gertrude said: 

“ Come, Frank, calm yourself. Weep not for 
me.” And so saying, she reached out her hand. 
He took it in his own; he looked into her peaceful 
face and bending over her, kissed the pale brow, 
and went away. 

He had just gone when Mrs. Scrivener entered 
the room. She conversed with Gertrude for a long 
time. Whilst she was talking, Louisa and Bertha 
Vanalstine came into the room, and proceeded at 
once to the bedside of their dearest friend, and kiss- 
ing her lips, said they hoped she was better, where- 
upon she replied that she felt a little stronger. 

“ That is encouraging,” said Bertha. 

“ You don’t know how anxious we are about you,” 
remarked Louisa. 

“ I am so glad you have come. I wanted to see 
you. Edith and Maria have been in and we had 
quite a little visit.” 

“I am sure you are no more pleased to see me 
than we are you,” said Bertha. 


1 88 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


“I have thought of you very often,” replied 
Gertrude. 

“ I am glad to hear that,” answered Louisa. 

“ So am I,” added Bertha. 

“ So many of your friends have called to see you. 
They are all so hopeful that you will soon be able 
to see them.” 

“ I would gladly see them, for I have only a little 
while to stay with you, and I hope that all that love 
me will endeavor to comfort my lonely mother and 
brother when I am no longer on earth.” 

“ We will all love them, Gertrude, for your sake, 
and we will visit them often,” replied Louisa. 

“You are all so good,” remarked Gertrude, and 
she closed her eyes, and said she felt as if she must 
sleep a little; but she soon opened her eyes again 
and they kissed her good-bye, and left the room. 
Several days passed by and not any signs of a 
change, except that she was gradually growing 
weaker. 

Two more weeks elapsed, but anxious friends 
watched over her, knowing that at any moment her 
spirit might be released. She had conversed with 
those of her most intimate friends and each one felt 
when they left her as if they must take a more 
tender leave than usual, for they plainly saw that she 
was patient and resigned, and it might be the last 
parting on earth. 

It was a lovely evening. The early part of the 
day had been dark and rainy, but toward noon it 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


189 


cleared away, and though the dark clouds still 
hung overhead, yet there were streaks of golden 
and crimson sky in the west, from which the 
setting sun gleamed through the dripping leaves 
and kindled all nature into a melancholy smile. 
It seemed like a parting hour; and such, indeed, 
it was. 

For a long time, Gertrude talked of the beautiful 
angels and the sweet singing. Dear friends clustered 
about her bedside and gazed upon her fragile form, 
and while they stood there, she opened her eyes, 
took one parting glance and then closed them; for 
the messenger of death had come and she had de- 
parted this life without a murmur. A bright smile 
lit up her features and all that was mortal of Ger- 
trude Scrivener was now inanimate clay. 

As Frank Morrison looked upon the angelic form 
of his affianced bride, now cold and still in death, 
with her hands gently crossed over her bosom, he 
uttered in accents of anguish : 

“ Oh, my darling ! my angel, Gertrude ! this is 
hard ! terribly hard ! my life is forever darkened. 
You came like a sunbeam over my pathway, but 
you have vanished so soon from my sight !” 

As he lifted the lifeless hand once again for the 
last time, he pressed it to his lips and then kissed 
the cold, white brow and stood for a long time and 
gazed upon her as if he were transfixed. Footsteps 
were heard in the adjoining room and serious voices 
were busy conversing, and not until the door opened 


I9O LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

and some friends entered, did Frank Morrison take 
his leave. 

A few days after her death, a long train of dear 
and intimate friends followed her to the last resting 
place, and soon after she was deposited deep in the 
hallowed earth, evermore hid from mortal eye. Like 
the vanishing of a beautiful dream was her depar- 
ture, but she was “ safe in the arms of Jesus.” 


, -V5l 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


I 9 I 


CHAPTER XV. 

life’s changes. 

T HREE months had passed away, and many 
little incidents that had occurred during the 
beginning of the new year were now called to mind, 
and proved to have been prophetic. The restless 
shiftings of time had wrought many changes. 

The spring-time, bright and sunny, that was long 
looked for as ladened with rich joy, brought disap- 
pointment instead; for now the voice of one was 
hushed. She who was so gentle and loving, no 
longer formed one of the circle of dear friends that 
had met on her birthday-night. A love tale had 
been breathed into her ear — not by a faithless lover. 
Oh, no ! but the wiles of an artful woman had 
caused all her life’s joy to fade and die. Sad, indeed, 
was the result, for not only did it cause the lamp of 
life to go out from one heart, but it had its effect 
upon another; for to-day, the once handsome, noble, 
and generous-hearted Frank Morrison is the inmate 
of an asylum for the insane. 

The double-wedding that had been planned to 
take place in the early part of June, and which 
promised to be one of the most brilliant, as well as 


1 92 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

one of the most happy affairs that had ever occurred 
in the city, had been rudely interrupted, hence all 
preparations were at that time dropped. So deeply 
grieved were Maria Underwood and Clarence 
Goodes at this sudden termination of affairs, and at 
the affliction that had fallen so heavily upon their 
dear friends, that they agreed to postpone their 
marriage until another date. It was not until 
several days after Gertrude’s funeral that they were 
married, and then very quietly, without any guests 
save the relatives of the families and several intimate 
and dear friends. 

After the ceremony was over, and the happy 
couple had partaken of a wedding breakfast, they 
left immediately for an extended trip west. Charlie 
Scrivener had returned to his business and was 
engaged more earnestly and devotedly than ever in 
the performance of his duty. Yet his heart was filled 
with love for the idol of his boyhood’s fancy, Louisa 
Van Benthusen, for her kind and watchful care over 
the sick bed of his angel sister, and the comfort she 
had given to the sorrowing mother now left in lone- 
liness. 

Bertha Vanalstine, in company with her aunt and 
uncle, visited the romantic scenery of the Hudson 
River, and spent some time on the shores of the 
beautiful Lake Champlain. Lieut. Harbottle, Col. 
Thornburg and others took a trip up the lakes to 
Marquette, to visit the pictured rocks and other 
points of interest in that vicinity. 


SOCIETY AS IT iS. 


*93 


Fannie Schaydell, smitten as she was at the result 
of her own evil plannings, was looked upon as some- 
thing to be avoided. Being now rejected from the 
lists of many distinguished families for her cold- 
hearted treachery and dastardly deed, she could not 
stand the coolness of those whose homes she had 
regarded as places where opportunities to meet dis- 
tinguished persons were granted her, and so she 
finally left the city for Cape May. There, amid gay 
companions, she forgot what crime rested upon her 
guilty head. 

Charles D’Chauncey remained in the city all sum- 
mer, with the hope of gaining the heart and hand of 
the charming Louisa Van Benthusen. She also re- 
mained, so great was her love and sympathy for the 
lonely mother of her dearest friend, whom death 
had so cruelly snatched away. And then she had 
promised Charlie, as they parted, to visit his mother 
often. To do this, she must sacrifice other pleasures 
that might be derived from fashionable watering 
places. Besides, thoughts of her cousin fell like a 
shadow over her life, for he was lost to her. Her 
father had used every possible means to restore him 
to his right mind, but it was all of no avail. Of the 
pleasant groups that had been accustomed to meet 
at the home of Mrs. Scrivener, there was none left 
but Louisa and Edith ; and why did Edith remain 
in the city ? The old, old story of misfortune and 
trouble. Another picture from which to learn a sad 
lesson ! Oh, how little value these summer friends 
13 


194 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

were who had gathered to be entertained by Mrs. 
Silverthorn and her daughter ! 

In the busy whirl of fashion, her husband had be- 
come a slave to the wine-cup. His broad tract of 
land passed from him, little by little, and finally, his 
elegant mansion was sold and his family was reduced 
to poverty and disgrace. Worse than all, he sunk 
to the level of a brute. But at last he reformed 
and was removed from the scene of his degradation. 
This brought hope to his poor, patient wife. But 
the iron hand of death, from which there is no es- 
cape, was laid upon him before he could recover any 
of his fortune ; and now, his delicate wife and beauti- 
ful daughter are at the mercy of the world, and are 
obliged to earn their daily bread. With all these 
changes, the long sultry summer passed away, and 
slight indications of a change of season were already 
visible. 

One day, while Louisa and her mother sat out in 
the vine-covered summer house, conversing with 
Mrs. Scrivener about Edith Silverthorn and her 
mother, they commented upon all the strange and 
eventful occurrences of the new year, that was has- 
tening on to its close. After discussing the subject 
for some time, these ladies proposed to secure the 
little brown cottage that Mrs. Scrivener had but 
recently vacated, furnish it comfortably and pleas- 
antly, and present it to Mrs. Silverthorn as an offer- 
ing of their love and esteem. They had not forgotten 
how often Mrs. Silverthorn had entertained them at 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


195 


Her social board, and the many little acts of kind- 
ness she and her daughter had tendered them in 
times of sickness. They will not forget her now 
when she is in need. They at once decided what 
first to do. By the next day Mrs. Van Benthusen 
had so interested her husband in the work that he 
too favored their plans, and all set to work. The 
first step was to see the landlord, and determine if 
he would lease the house to them for the space of 
five years. 

He was a man who had more regard for the well- 
filled purse of the wealthy than he had for the scanty 
one of the poor. He met them with a smiling face 
and with many needless gestures, bending to an 
angle of forty -five degrees every now and then, when 
his terms were approved of by the ladies standing 
before him. At length he let them have the cottage 
at veiy moderate terms— some two hundred dollars 
a year. This done, and the contract drawn up and 
signed, they dispatched two servants to clean the 
house, and engaged painter, paper-hanger, and kal- 
sominer to give the interior a fresh appearance. 

In a week’s time all was done. The furniture was 
then selected, the carpets bought, made, and put 
down, and everything for comfort was duly arranged. 
Even the pantry was well supplied with groceries 
and provisions — the last necessary preparation to 
complete the work of two weeks. When all was in 
readiness they viewed their work and were satisfied. 

A carriage was then sent to bring Edith and her 


196 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

mother to the cottage, all about which was a well- 
kept secret from them. They at length arrived and 
wondered who had called them thither. But they 
soon found out, when they were received at the door 
by Mrs. Scrivener, Mrs. Van Benthusen and Louisa, 
and were introduced to their new home. The delight 
and thankfulness of that mother and daughter, as 
they were shown about, to see all that had been so 
generously lavished upon them, can better be im- 
agined than described ; and amidst tears of joy, they 
attempted to tell how grateful they were. But words 
could not express the feelings of their hearts in fit- 
ting terms. 

To the donors, actions spoke louder than words, 
and they were fully convinced that their friends were 
grateful beyond expression for the gift. For a long 
time they conversed and so passed off the afternoon. 
One of Mrs. Van Benthusen’s servants then came 
and prepared refreshments, of which they all par- 
took, with hearts full of love and devotion. Follow- 
ing the repast, they all joined in prayer and praise 
to God for His great mercies and loving-kindness. 
Louisa and her mother and Mrs. Scrivener then left 
them alone to talk over and enjoy their new home. 
They had been gone but a short time when Edith 
said : 

“ Mother, maybe it will be well for us to repair to 
the scanty room that we but a few hours ago left, 
and make arrangements to have what little we have 
there brought here.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


197 


“Yes, we will, for we must stay in our own home 
to-night and it will not do to leave our wardrobe, 
jewelry and what pieces of silver we have saved 
unprotected there. No one knows who is prowling 
around such a house where there are so many 
families.” ♦ 

“ That is so. We must not leave them there.” 

“ Very well, we had better go at once.” 

So saying, they put on their hats and shawls and 
started for the desolate place in an obscure part of 
the city, where on the third floor of a large tene- 
ment house they sought their room, where the only 
treasures they owned on earth were concealed. 

On their way, they secured the services of a dray- 
man and not long after they reached the place every- 
thing was in readiness to move and their earthly 
possessions were all piled on, making in all but one 
load. They were soon carried to the little brown 
cottage, where they were quickly unloaded and were 
then cared for by the mother and daughter, who had 
hurried from the lonely tenement house through the 
streets, dim-lighted as they were in the approaching 
dusky twilight Thus settled in their happy little 
home, they sat down much fatigued. At an early hour 
they retired. How good it did seem to them to lie 
down to sleep once more upon a soft bed. How 
good it did seem to be away from the noisy babble 
of the dirty, ragged children that would race up 
and down the stairs, hallooing and shouting at the 
top of their voices. 


1 98 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“Just see,” said Edith, “ this is some of Louisa’s 
work, I know,” as she lifted a little mat from the 
table. 

“ Just like her,” responded the mother. 

“ Did you ever see such a little home more com- - 
plete ? * Who would ever have thought of getting 
us a sewing machine ? Isn’t it lovely ? And then 
how nice that row of bright, new tinware shines 
in the cupboard !” 

“ They are perfect sisters of mercy, to help us 
thus l” 

“ Indeed they are. Now, when I get something 
to do, won’t we live nice, and can’t we enjoy our- 
selves in this pretty home ? Maybe just as much as 
we did in our olden home.” 

Soundly did they sleep that night and sweetly, 
too, and the morning dawned bright and warm. All 
that day they were busy cleaning up and setting 
their things to rights ; putting their clothes in the 
bureau drawers, and fixing the closets with their gar- 
ments hanging in rows. All day they worked and 
the future looked much brighter to them than it 
had at any time since their downfall. Edith, the 
next day, put an advertisement in the daily papers, 
seeking opportunity to instruct pupils on the guitar. 
In the meantime, Mrs. Silverthorn, although in poor 
health/took in some sewing and by Edith’s assist- 
ance they got along as well as could be hoped. But 
more of them in the following chapter. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


I99 


CHAPTER XVI. 
edith’s trials. 

u /ANE month has passed by since you advertised 
\J in the paper that you would give instructions 
on the guitar, and not a pupil yet. I don’t know 
what we will do this winter if you do not get some 
one soon. I am afraid I will not be able to do much, 
for I feel as if my strength was fast giving out.” 

“ O mother, do not get discouraged, yet. I think I 
will succeed after awhile, but I will not wait any longer 
for pupils to come to me, for likely as not some that 
would like me to give their children lessons never 
read the papers or notice the advertising columns. 
So I will start out and call upon some of my ac- 
quaintances and see what I can do. They will never 
come to me, so I must go and search for them.” 

“ I believe I would if I were you. Maybe Mrs. 
Van Benthusen or Mrs. Scrivener could help you. 
But they have done so much for us already, I should 
be ashamed to ask more of them. But we must 
do something, for we have no money, and we will 
starve this winter if we must depend upon sewing 
alone for a living. And supposing either of us 
should be taken ill, then what ? If you only under- 


200 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; OR, 


stood making dresses we could make more than we 
can at plain sewing. But we must do something.” 

“ Don’t worry, mother, I will go right now,” said 
Edith, as she drew on her perfectly-fitting kid glove, 
and was soon hurrying along down the broad avenue, 
where some of her fashionable acquaintances resided. 
She called upon several where she thought she was 
most likely to succeed, but she was disappointed at 
each call. Some thought that none was capable 
but a foreigner; others answered her lightly, as if 
she was jesting; others could not endure to be 
annoyed by a teacher running after them, or even 
by letting their children go away from home to be 
taught. How would they know whether they were 
learning anything or not, and the trouble would be 
more than the accomplishment. 

At last, tired and weary, but brave-hearted, she 
resolved to try a few more places among her old 
friends before she gave up. How little did she know 
what life is, until she learned by experience its ups 
and downs. “Who would ever think,” said she to 
herself, “that the words my teacher uttered long 
ago, that I should cling to and learn my lessons 
with as much correctness as though I was obliged to 
resort to them to earn my support, would ever have 
come true! Little did I think then that his words 
would ever come true! We little know what rough 
and thorny roads we have to pass over through life.” 

As she passed along the busy thoroughfare of one 
of the principal streets, she looked up and saw 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


201 


Louisa Van Benthusen. As she advanced toward 
her, Louisa turned and caught a glimpse of her, and 
straightway extended her daintily-gloved hand, say- 
ing, “ I am glad to see you. I was thinking of call- 
ing to see you this afternoon, but I can go some 
other day.” 

“ I have been out the whole afternoon,” said Edith, 
“ and I am tired and nearly discouraged.” 

“Why? What is the trouble? Anything I can 
assist you in?” 

“No doubt of it.” 

“What is it, then? Come, Edith, don’t be afraid 
to tell me or ask me anything that lies in my power 
to do for you ; you know I will do it with all my 
heart.” 

“ I know you would, Louisa, you have always 
been so good to me. But I will tell you my 
troubles. I have made several calls this afternoon 
to get some pupils to instruct in music, and have 
not met with very favorable success.” 

“ Have you been to Squire Dennison’s and to 
Rev. Mr. Sinclair’s, our pastor ?” 

“ No, I never thought of them.” 

“ Why, go there by all means. They love music, 
and from their children I think you can get at least 
one pupil. Come, I’ll go with you, if you wish me to.” 

“ I wish you would.” 

“All right ; come on.” And off they started talk- 
ing just as busily and confidentially as if the one 
had never been reduced from wealth to poverty.. 


202 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; OR, 


They were received very cordially at their pas- 
tor’s, and after they had explained their errand, Mr. 
and Mrs. Sinclair agreed that their daughter, then 
ten years old, should begin at once as a pupil of 
Edith’s. After many encouraging and kind words 
Edith brightened up, and felt as if God had answered 
her earnest supplication, inasmuch as He had shown 
her the way to accomplish her desires. Light- 
hearted and filled with tender emotion were they at 
their achievement, and soon they were out on the street 
again intending to make two or three more calls. 

“ There,” said Louisa, “ didn’t I tell you our pas- 
tor and his wife would probably let Kittie take 
lessons to help you along ? She always used to 
admire your playing and singing so much at our 
socials and parties, I knew she would not have 
refused you, if you had gone alone.” 

“ I am so glad, and how thankful I am for your 
advice and company. I should never have thought 
of going there, although Mrs. Sinclair calls as often 
to see us now as she did when we were in better 
circumstances.” 

“ I knew she would. A real lady and friend is 
never less attentive when misfortune comes than 
they are in prosperity.” 

“ O Louisa, can I ever repay all the kindnesses 
you have done me ?” 

“ Your true, earnest friendship is all the pay I 
ask. No change of time or fortune can ever weaken 
my good feeling toward you.” 


203 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 

“ You shall ever have my friendship, Louisa, just 
as you always have. I know and appreciate your 
noble heart ; so unlike the great mass of those that 
flutter in the gay world of fashion.” 

Arriving now at Squire Dennison’s handsome 
residence, they walked up the stone pavement very 
briskly, rang the bell, were admitted by a colored 
waiter and ushered into the gorgeously furnished 
parlors. Mrs. Dennison received them, and as soon 
as their errand was made known another pupil was 
added to the list. As they arose to go, she gave 
them references to some of her lady acquaintances, 
whom she had heard speak about having their 
daughters take lessons. 

The calls were hurriedly made on all the ladies 
that Mrs. Dennison had referred them to, and at the 
street corner Louisa bid adieu, and each went her 
way homeward, with a happy heart. When Edith 
reached home it was dark. The street lamps were 
lit and made a brilliant line all along the avenue. 
With a quick step, humming plaintive snatches of 
songs, she hurried* on. Her heart felt lighter than 
it had for a long time, and she thought how delighted 
her mother would be when she related the good 
news to her. Arriving at her home she went out 
into the sitting-room where her mother sat busily 
sewing. Without waiting to hear what her mother 
was about to remark, she burst forth with these 
words : 

“ Just guess how many scholars I have ?” 


204 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

“ Two,” said the mother, with a bright, smiling 
countenance. 

“ More than that.” 

“ Three.” 

“ Guess again.” 

“ Four.” 

“ I have five !” 

“ Five !” exclaimed the mother, putting down her 
sewing and taking off her glasses, which she laid on 
the table, looking perfectly astonished, as if the news 
was only imaginary, instead of real. 

“ Yes, just think, five ! and all to begin this very 
week. Isn’t that glorious ! You see, mother, for- 
tune will never come to us. We must go in 
search of the lazy goddess if we want her.” 

“You have done well, exceedingly well. I did 
not expect you would get more than one or two at 
best. God has been merciful to us and shown you 
the way to success. We ought now to get along by 
being economical, and to save some money besides. 
We have no house rent to pay and only our food 
and clothes to buy.” 

“ I think I did splendidly. They all want to take 
two lessons a week, and with twenty-five lessons in 
a term, that will make a little over four terms in a 
year. This, at twelve dollars a term, will bring us 
two hundred and forty dollars a year ; and then I 
may get more added to the number, for these ladies 
promised cheerfully to recommend me to their 
friends, and to do all they could to help me get a 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


205 


large class. Dear mother, you will not need to do 
any more sewing ; but I will keep up my sewing 
until I get enough pupils to pay me without it.” 

“ I must say I feel quite encouraged,” said the 
mother. “ I was afraid you would not be able to get 
any pupils, and I did not know what we would then 
do. But now that we have such fine prospects, I 
feel like a new person. Come, let us take supper. 
I have been waiting this hour, wondering where you 
could be. I did not know but that you might have 
gone over to call upon Louisa, and that she had 
urged you to take tea with her.” 

As soon as they were seated at the table, Edith 
related all that had happened, how she was treated 
with coldness amounting to scorn by some, and the 
contrast between those and some who greeted her 
with the same smile and pleasant words they always 
had used ; but who, though not responding to her 
request, yet spoke kindly and wished her success. 
She told how she met Louisa on the street, and how 
she proposed to go with her and to help her ; and 
how disappointed she was in some that she supposed 
to be her friends when surrounded by wealth and 
fashion, and compared them with those true friends 
that were the same in adversity as in prosperity. 
So the whole evening was occupied with plans and 
speculations for the future. 

After Louisa left Edith, she felt very happy to 
think she had been instrumental in securing for her 
some scholars ; and more pleased was she in the 


206 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

thought that it had done so much good and had the 
desired effect on Edith’s plans. As soon as she 
arrived home, she related the circumstances to her 
mother and father, who were equally well pleased. 
Turning the conversation, Mr. Van Benthusen noticed 
a grave expression come over his daughter’s face, 
and said : 

“ Why so thoughtful an expression ?” 

“ I was thinking.” 

“ Of what?” 

“ Will you make me a promise ?” 

“ I cannot promise anything, unless it is a silk 
dress, without knowing first what it is.” 

“ You can do it,” said Louisa, “ without any diffi- 
culty.” 

“ What is it, then ? I am all anxiety to know.” 

“ Well ! I was going to ask you if you would dis- 
card wines and liquors from your Thanksgiving din- 
ner party, that mother and yourself are talking 
about giving. It is a long time yet before then, but 
I thought I would make my request in due season.” 

“ Whatever put such ideas into your head, child ?” 
inquired Mr. Van Benthusen. 

“ I have been thinking about it for some time, and 
contemplating the sin and misery drink brings to 
many a home and finally destroys it forever.” 

“ Well ! well ! is my daughter going to turn 
temperance lecturer, I wonder?” ejaculated Mr. 
Van Benthusen, with a jesting laugh. 

“ No, no, father ! you need not laugh or make fun 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


207 


of me. I am not going to lecture. But just draw 
these two pictures from life and then draw your 
conclusion. The first is a poor man who is drunken 
and staggers about the street. He is looked upon 
with loathing by all who see him. The second is 
met in the crowded halls of pleasure and fashion, 
and becomes — let me use the same word — drunken 
by sipping too much wine at the table of his gen- 
erous host. Now is one less debasing than the 
other? No! One is just as bad as the other, in 
my estimation.” 

“ My child, it would be much better to leave off 
the custom of offering liquors at our banquets, but 
it would cause many remarks.” 

“ I know it, but why need you care about the idle 
gossip of the people ? I am sure you are not one 
that would falter to do that which was right and 
pleasing in the sight of God, because of what the 
backbiting world would say. I look upon wine- 
bibbing as a great sin. Why, I have noticed gen- 
tlemen who took only a single sip of wine in honor 
of their host and hostess when they first began the 
season of gaiety, but before it was over they would 
get an uncontrollable fondness for it and plunge 
headlong into danger. I think every time a man 
gives way to such taste he reduces his self-respect 
and the respect of others, and what is worse still, is 
to see some of our most fashionable ladies take so 
much wine, that they descend sadly from that purity 
which should be characteristic of our sex.” 


208 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


“ That is quite a neat little speech, and very elo- 
quent, too.” 

“ Do not make fun of me, father. I am really in 
earnest.” 

“ I do not, my child. I feel the truth of what 
you say, and at your request, no wine or intoxicat- 
ing liquors shall appear on my table at my next 
and all following parties. Will that suit you?” 

“ Oh, thank you, dear father. Others will soon 
follow your example.” 

“Maybe they will; I hope so. But, my child, 
you have taught me a lesson which I never stopped 
to consider before. No man shall ever again drink 
wine at my table, and perhaps in after years look back 
and say, ‘ It was the wine I drank at Mr. Van Ben- 
thusen’s dinner-parties that ruined me/” 

For a long time they conversed, and at length Mr. 
Van Benthusen told Louisa that a gentleman from 
Minnesota, from the place where Charlie Scrivener 
lived, told him that it was rumored about that 
Charlie was to wed a lovely country maiden, but as 
to the truth, he did not know. 

Louisa said nothing to show that she felt it keenly, 
but as soon as her father left her alone she hastened 
up-stairs to her own room, and then looked into 
the future and breathed a prayer for strength to bear 
her crushing burden. She did not faint or yield to 
despair as the heroine of a novel generally does; 
but sympathetic with her own self, she concluded 
that it was all for the best in some way that she 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


209 


could not then understand. She loved Charlie with 
a depth of devotion all her own. Since he had re- 
turned to his western home he had written her sev- 
eral letters. They did not speak of any greater love 
than that of a brotherly friendship, and yet it seemed 
strange he did not tell of his coming marriage. But 
she kept a brave heart and fulfilled her quiet mis- 
sions of life just the same as usual. And yet in spite 
of her efforts, there were times when an all-conquer- 
ing sadness would creep over her, and she would 
give way to violent weeping. 

But, dear readers, leave her for a time and transport 
your attention to the sanctuary of Charlie Scrivener. 
There he sits in deep thought. His tired brain has 
done its labor for the day. As he looks upon the 
spicy sheet lying on the table before him, containing 
many articles from his own pen, he falls to dreaming. 
Listen closely to the wandering thoughts as they are 
disclosed in spirit voices. 

“ If I only had breathed my love to Louisa ere I 
left her, how happy I might have been to-night. 
But I did not. ’Tis too bad ! I cannot write it to her. 
It would not have the same effect as if I told it to 
her. She would think I was only trifling with her. 
If she only knew how I adore her, maybe her heart 
would return my devotion. I trust that by Christ- 
mas time, when I go home again, my desire will be 
attained. It has been my aim since boyhood to gain 
a position befitting her station and then to make her 
my own. It is her unselfish love that has nerved 
14 


210 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSI& ; OR, 

me to be what I am to-day. If she should in the 
meantime become the bride of another, I would care 
for nothing. Oh, how I worship her. How she has 
kept my feet from wandering into the paths of wicked- 
ness; and her kind and gentle requests I have always 
obeyed. Wouldn’t I be proud to possess such a 
tender gem of womanhood as she? with such an 
angel, how happy would be my life !” 

Thus, you see, kind readers, while Louisa is trying 
to forget him with the thought that he loves another, 
every hope of happiness he entertains is centered in 
her. But she knows it not. She never speaks his 
name except when asked a question concerning him. 

Mrs. Scrivener began to feel that Louisa had 
ceased to be interested in Charlie and did not read 
his letters to her, as she had been accustomed to do. 
This, Louisa thought, was because she did not wish 
to cause her pain with their contents, as they would 
contain much about his contemplated marriage. 

In like thought and feeling time pressed on. Fre- 
quently thoughts of Gertrude came to Louisa and 
.she wished she* might rest peacefully beside her. 
Should she lose the only one she loved among all 
her acquaintances of the sterner sex, her life would 
be like an unwritten page — blank and bare. And 
thus it is that much of the unhappiness of this life 
comes from misrepresentation and from misguided 
thoughts. 


Society as it is. 


21 1 


CHAPTER XVII. 

0 

THE REJECTED PROPOSAL. 

I T was about noon one lovely autumn day, and 
Louisa had just returned from a long drive to the 
country, when her father met her in the hall, saying : 
“ My dear child, as soon as you have taken off 
your sacque and hat, I would like to see you for a 
few moments in the drawing-room.” 

“ What is it, father ?” inquired Louisa, and hastily 
taking off her wrappings, she hung them on the rack 
and was ready to accompany her father before he 
had finished speaking. 

Mr. Van Benthusen took a seat by the centre table, 
and Louisa drew up a little footstool and sat down 
before him, saying : “ Now, father, I am all attention; 
what is it you want to tell me? something good, I 
hope.” 

“ Yes, it is, or I should not want my daughter to 
know it,” replied the indulgent father. 

“ Don’t keep me waiting, father; I am all anxiety 
to know.” 

“ Well, my child, how do you like the talented 
Charles D’Chauncey ?” 

“ What a queer question ! but in answer, I will say 


212 


LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 


that I esteem him very highly. He is good company, 
very agreeable and finely educated. But I never con- 
sidered the question of whether I liked him or not.” 

“ Do you think you could love him ?” 

“ I don’t know. Really I never thought of such 
a thing.” 

“ But do you think you could love him ?” 

“ Why, father, you talk to me in riddles ! I am 
afraid to say, for I have not been enough in his 
society to judge.” 

“ Do you think you could love him sufficiently to 
become his wife ?” 

“ His wife ! Why, father, I never heard of such 
an absurdity ! What made you think of it? Oh, I 
know ! you thought we were in love with each other 
because we were so much together at the last few 
parties !” 

“ No, Louisa, not that ; but he is very wealthy, and 
is one of the most noted, as well as most talented 
lawyers I ever heard plead a case ; and, besides, he is 
born of royal blood, and to-day he asked me for 
your hand.” 

“ For my hand !” exclaimed Louisa, and the hot 
blood mounted to her cheeks with a crimson flush. 

“ Yes.” 

“ I do not love him !” 

“ I know, but you can learn to love him. He has 
asked the privilege of wooing and winning you ; he 
does not expect that you love him now, but he hopes 
that you will, in time.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


213 


“ O father ! I cannot love him.” 

“ Can you not try, my dear ?” 

“ Do not ask me, father !” pleaded Louisa. 

“ He is a worthy gentleman and — ” 

“ But, father,” interrupted Louisa, “ I am so happy 
at home. I do not wish to get married, now. Tell 
him I am proud of the honor he does me, but I do 
not wish to leave my home.” 

“ Louisa, you will not always stay at home with 
your parents, and Charles D’Chauncey has rank and 
power, and as his wife you would always be among 
the highest society, both in this country and England. 
And what a worthy companion he would make you, 
gifted as he is, intellectually and morally !” 

“ Dear father, do not urge me to love him. Do 
not press me to accept his attention. I believe him 
to be all that is noble and good, but I am astonished 
to hear you mention title and rank as fit recom- 
mendations for your daughter’s hand. How many 
times I have heard you say that without love a mar- 
riage is worthless ; and now you want your daughter 
to marry a man she does not care for in the least !” 

“ There is much truth in what you say, Louisa, 
and it has brought a flush of shame to my face, for 
speaking of his rank and title without first knowing 
if he is capable of cherishing the love you would 
give him before you would marry him. That he 
has fine and noble qualities I am convinced, and I am 
sure you could care for him if you would only think 


214 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

“ I am sorry, father, but if I ever wed, it shall not 
be a foreigner. Give me a free-born American for 
my choice.” 

“ You are patriotic, I see. I like that spirit, and 
I agree with you — however, I wish to see you happy, 
and if you cannot accept the honor that Charles 
D’Chauncey has done you, I sincerely hope that 
you will not bestow your love upon any person who 
is not worthy of your affection, or upon some one 
who would not be approved of by me, for I want 
you to do well and be happy ; and in the future I 
will leave you to choose for yourself, relying upon 
your excellent judgment fora good selection. But 
whomsoever you choose, select some one who is not 
afraid of work ; some one who has a good trade to 
depend upon, if he should be unfortunate through 
life ; some one who has a true, manly heart, is genial, 
and full of sunshine. And though he be not hand- 
some or wealthy, you will get along well.” 

“ Thank you, dear father, for your estimation of 
my judgment. I feel that I am thoroughly capable 
of choosing for myself, and am assured that I shall 
not select any one that would cause you any un- 
pleasantness. Now, if you will please speak to 
Charles D’Chauncey, tell him that I respectfully de- 
cline the honor he would do me, and thank him 
very much for the courtesy.” 

“ Very well ! Your request shall be granted.” 

As they walked out to dinner and assembled 
around the table, it would have been a study for a 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 21 5 

painter to have witnessed the thoughtful expressions 
on the face of the father and daughter. 

The meal was partaken of in silence, and as soon 
as it was over, Louisa hastily repaired to her own 
quiet chamber and poured out her heart in prayer 
for the deliverance from one that she could regard 
with kindly esteem, but could not love. Thoughts 
of Charlie crowded into her brain, and at every mail 
she looked for some news of Charlie’s approaching 
marriage. But days came and went and his friendly 
letters came as usual : still no mention of his mar- 
riage or any hint that might accredit the truth of 
the statement. 

Several days after Louisa’s conversation with her 
father in the drawing-room, she happened to spend 
an evening with Mrs. Scrivener, just as she had re- 
ceived a letter from Charlie. She seemed to be 
much pleased with its contents, and after Louisa 
was seated, said : 

“ Would you like to hear an extract from Charlie’s 
letter ?” 

“ Certainly,” replied Louisa, and a chill passed 
quickly over her, for she felt that the news of his 
marriage with that beautiful western belle would 
now be told, and trembling to hear the dreaded 
news, she waited for Mrs. Scrivener to open the 
missive, and read to her its contents. 

At length she began to read as follows : 

“ How delightful it would be to make up a little 
party, and invite Louisa Van Benthusen and Edith 


216 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

Silverthorn, and visit me in my new home. The 
time is so lonely to me, and it would be such a 
benefit to your health to come out west for a while. 
I have the best of board at an excellent hotel, and I 
am sure several weeks of this beautiful weather 
could not be better spent. I have purchased a 
beautiful home, and I want you to come first and 
visit me, and in the spring-time of another year I 
shall take possession of it myself, and taste the joys 
of housekeeping. How pleasant it will be to have 
Louisa, the dearest friend of Gertrude, visit me in 
my new home. If Gertrude had only lived, what 
a good time we might have had! But I will not 
murmur.” 

As Mrs. Scrivener finished the extract, a shade 
of sadness passed over their faces at the mention of 
Gertrude. Silence pervaded the room for some 
time. Louisa was deeply engaged in thought, for 
that extract convinced her that he was not yet 
married, but that this beautiful new home was for 
some purpose, and then he speaks of his luxury of 
housekeeping, and was that not enough to tell her 
that he would be married to the lovely lady some- 
time before spring? “Ah, yes!” thought she, 
“ whilst his mother and I are there, is the time he 
will wed her, for we will be there to attend.” 

Faster and faster thoughts like these flew with 
lightning rapidity through her brain, until at last 
Mrs. Scrivener broke the stillness of reverie by say- 
ing: 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 217 

“ Would you like to make a visit with me to the 
great west?” 

“ Yes, indeed ! I should be most happy, especially 
in your company and Edith’s, but I am afraid Edith 
will be obliged to decline, for she has ten or eleven 
pupils now to instruct, and their parents are all 
anxious that they should pay strict attention to their 
lessons. So Edith will not be able to go. But 
wouldn’t it do her good ? Still, it is best to invite 
her as she might possibly get a vacation and go — I 
wish she could !” 

“ Yes, it makes me think of my angel daughter 
when I see her toiling to earn her support, and her 
mother is not half as able as I was to stand such trials. 
But if she cannot accompany us, can we not gt> ? I 
am sure your parents would be perfectly willing.” 

“I do not think they would object; besides, I 
have for a long time wanted to visit the west, but 
having no particular friends or relatives there, I 
have not yet taken that desired step.” 

“ Then we will go ! I will get the consent of 
your parents, and it will not take many days to make 
our preparations, will it ?” 

“ Why no ! The only things I require are a new 
duster and a traveling suit, and it would not take a 
couple of good dressmakers more than two or three 
days to make what I want, for the traveling dresses 
are made very plain now.” 

“ Let us go over, now, and I will speak to your 
parents about it. So saying, they started, and when 


218 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

they walked into the back parlor they found Mr. 
Van Benthusen interesting himself with his evening 
paper, and Mrs. Van Benthusen doing some delicate 
sewing. 

After the usual greeting was over, Mrs. Scrivener 
mentioned the proposed visit; and saying she would 
be most happy to have Louisa accompany her, and 
that she thought it would be a benefit to her health, 
judging from the descriptions of the kind-hearted 
citizens of the State of boundless prairies and beauti- 
ful rivers. She thought they would derive great 
enjoyment from the trip. 

After a little consideration, Louisa’s parents gave 
their full consent, and then Mrs. Scrivener and 
Louisa called upon Edith and her mother, and related 
the good news and told them of the invitation sent 
to Edith by Charlie, and asked her to join them, 
adding, “ it will cost you nothing, save your enter- 
taining company.” 

Edith thanked them, but owing to her dependence 
upon her pupils for her mother’s and her own main- 
tenance, she cheerfully declined to indulge herself 
with such a rare treat. 

However much she longed to go, she submitted 
to her circumstances cheerfully, knowing that should 
she leave her pupils she might not find them again 
on her return. And so, with many wishes for a 
happy time and a safe return, she bade Mrs. Scrivener 
and Louisa good-night, and they wended their way 
slowly homeward, 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


219 


It was decided by Mrs. Scrivener and Miss Van 
Benthusen that they should take their departure 
in about four days, and so Louisa began the next 
morning to make preparations. As soon as her seam- 
stress was engaged and the materials for her travel- 
ing-suit selected, she began to make her farewell 
calls with a heart filled to overflowing with mingled 
sadness and joy. 

One of her first calls was upon Mrs. Cunningham, 
whom she found comfortably settled in a suite of 
pleasant rooms in a lovely part of the city, and per- 
fectly happy with the many blessings that had been 
abundantly showered down upon herself and her 
husband. 

“Ah,” said she to Louisa, “ George is doing so 
well, and we are getting a nice little bit together 
against a rainy day, and we are so happy! Just see 
in here,” continued she, rising and leading the way 
to the next room, “ we have bought a new carpet 
and bed-room set, and I have got it all fixed up quite 
nicely, and George has bought a new coal stove and 
lots of other things, and now I want you to just look 
into my parlor.” 

A neat little parlor it was, too, with a pretty three- 
ply carpet of green, with gold vines running through 
it. A pretty marble-topped table stood in the centre 
of the room; at one end was the silver-mounted 
coal stove already mentioned; a brussels carpeted 
lounge and some rocking and easy-chairs completed 
the furniture; the walls were garnished with hand- 


220 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; OR, 


some paintings and engravings, with brackets and 
various little odds and ends of fancy work mixed in 
between. The whole aspect of the room was com- 
fort and pleasantness. 

Louisa made many other calls; not among the 
wealthy. Oh, no! but to the humble abodes of the 
suffering and needy, where her voice was as sweet, 
soft music, and her presence like a ray of sunshine 
out of a dark sky. 

The many expressions of thankfulness for her 
kindness, and regrets that she was to leave the city, 
filled her heart with emotion, as she said within her- 
self : “How much there is to live for, even if our bright- 
est dreams cannot all be realized.” After bidding adieu 
to all her friends of the unfortunate class first, she then 
made such fashionable calls as she deemed pleasur- 
able. After she had attended to all these, the afternoon 
previous to the day on which she was to start on her 
journey, she called upon Edith for a final visit, 
and commented upon the pleasure in store for her, 
and concluded her long talk by saying she did 
wish that Edith could accompany Mrs. Scrivener 
and herself, for they would have such lovely times, 
but she would write to her very often and tell her 
all about the good time she was having. 

To this Edith replied : 

“ Much as I would love to go, I feel it my duty to 
remain at home. So much depends upon me, that 
I must yield to duty in preference to the coveted 
pleasure that I would derive from such a nice trip, 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


221 


and with such dear friends. I shall think of you 
very often and I hope you will write to me often, 
and I will keep you posted on all the news at home.” 

“That is just what I want; rest assured that I 
will not forget you, dear Edith,” replied Louisa. 

“ Is Charles D’Chauncey going to accompany 
you?” 

“ Me ! Why, no ! What ever put that into your 
head ?” 

“ One of my pupils told me this morning that it 
was becoming quite generally known that by another 
year you would become his bride.” 

“ Do not put any dependence in such idle gossip,” 
replied Louisa; “such sayings are untrue, for he is 
not one of our party ; neither am I to become his 
bride.” 

“ I am so glad, for I always had an idea that 
Charlie Scrivener was just the one suited to your 
tastes and fancies. Well he may be, for I think he 
is a good and noble fellow !” 

Louisa’s cheeks flushed scarlet as she thought of 
what he said in his letter about getting married in 
the spring, and she knew full well that it was not to 
her, and so she replied : 

“ Your imagination is good ! I am sorry to say 
that there is nothing but a true friendship existing 
between Charlie and me. We have no thoughts of 
marriage.” 

“ But this visit will unite your hearts in a deep 
love, greater than mere friendship, I trust.” 


222 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; OR, 


“ Have you not heard the rumor that he is to 
wed a lovely western lady some time soon ? And 
do you know I think that is the reason he has sent 
this invitation to us to come, so that we may wit- 
ness the ceremony.” 

“ I cannot believe that !” 

“ Why not ? I have good, reliable authority !” 

“Yes, but sometimes good, reliable authority 
don’t know anything about it, and I will not believe 
he is married until I hear it from him.” 

“ I don’t see why !” 

“ Because I think he loves you ! he displays it in 
every word and action, and I believe he loves you 
with a true devotedness, characteristic of his nature ! 
And if he has not already told you of it, he will be- 
fore you return ; now just see if he don’t.” 

“ You are mistaken, dear Edith, Charlie only re- 
gards me as a firm friend who will rejoice with him 
in his success, and sympathize with him in affliction. 
Why, he treats me just like a sister, and writes to 
me in just the same manner!” 

“ He entertains feelings deeper and warmer than 
ever dwelt in the bosom of a friend, and you will 
see ! Why, the very glance of his eye and tone of 
his voice when he speaks to you, betrays him, if 
one notices him closely !” 

“ Then, you must have been taking observations !” 
replied Louisa, laughingly. 

“ I was. I couldn’t help noticing what was as 
plain as day before my eyes !” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


223 


“ All right ! I will keep a lookout for those 
glances and that voice, and if I see that he is back- 
ward about proposing, I’ll offer myself.” 

“ You need not make sport about it,” said Edith, 
and a prolonged burst of laughter rang through the 
room. After recovering from this joyous spell, 
Louisa remarked : 

“ Well, you have told my fortune.” Rising from her 
chair, she added — “ I must go, for I only have this 
evening to visit at home, and to-morrow morning at 
sunrise, we take our departure.” 

At that moment, Mrs. Silverthorn came into the 
room and they conversed a short time. Then 
Louisa bid her friends an affectionate good-bye and 
returned home. 

As she walked along, she repeated to herself, 
“ Edith thinks he loves me — maybe he does !” with 
these thoughts, she looked forward to her journey 
with greater pleasure than at any other time, and it 
seemed as if she could scarcely wait to look into 
his handsome face, for she felt that his love was all 
that could make her future happiness complete. 


224 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A VISIT OUT WEST. 


OUISA was so happy in the thought of seeing 



Charlie and the good times she would have, that 


she scarcely shut her eyes to sleep during the night. 
Long before the morning dawned upon the sleeping 
city, she arose and began at once to put her room 
in order. This done, she sat down for a few moments 
by the open window and fell to musing. Many were 
the fanciful sketches she drew. At length she said 
to herself : 

“ Nature brings forth many beautiful scenes that 
are never beheld by human eye, and so does time 
bring about many mysterious ends, in which to ac- 
complish its purposes. It seems as if this journey 
of mine is one of the strange freaks, that will either 
give or take from my life all its sweetness, for of all 
places, who would ever think of my going to Minne- 
sota ? If only my fond dreams can be put into 
action how happy I shall be ! And yet I wish not 
to take away from any one else any happiness. But 
if not, I will submit to my fate and think that it is 
all for some good and wise purpose that I cannot 
no\y foresee.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


225 


For a long time she sat, quite unconscious of the 
time, until her wandering thoughts were recalled by 
a rap at her door, and the well-known voice of her 
mother said : 

“ Come, Louisa, it is time you were getting your- 
self in readiness, for it is already after five o’clock.” 

“Yes, mother,” replied Louisa, “I will be down 
directly.” So saying she arose from where she sat 
and glanced about to see if there was anything she 
had forgotten to put in her trunk, but upon seeing 
nothing, she ran down-stairs and was met at the parlor 
door by her mother, who said, as she put her arms 
about her and imprinted a kiss upon her fair cheek : 

“ I shall miss you so very much while you are gone. 
Were it not that I thought a journey to the western 
country would be beneficial to you in many ways, I 
believe I should act selfishly and want you to remain 
home.” 

“ O mother, you must not get lonesome.” 

“ But, my daughter, I will have no one to read to 
me afternoons ; and then it will seem as if half the 
house will be gone when you are away.” 

“ I will write to you very often, and, mother, when- 
ever you feel that spell of loneliness coming over 
you, just put on your bonnet and cloak and go out 
and call upon some of our poor friends, and the kind 
words spoken to them and their thankfulness will 
help you to forget that I am gone.” 

“ That is a good way I know to take my attention. 
I will go as often as I can, but there are many times 
15 


226 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

that I cannot go. However, I will try and be happy 
while you are away, knowing that you are enjoying 
yourself.” 

Before Mrs. Van Benthusen had finished speaking, 
one of the servants appeared in the doorway and 
said : 

“ Come, Miss Louisa, the breakfast is all ready, 
and I have the nicest cup of chocolate, and the best 
cream-puffs that you ever tasted.” 

At this very inviting speech, Mrs. Van Benthusen 
and Louisa started for the dining-room and were met 
by Mr. Van Benthusen at the table. After the usual 
morning greeting was over, he said : 

“ Well, and so you are off for the west, this morn- 
ing, to capture and bring home some handsome 
farmer, I suppose.” 

“ Not this time, father. I fear I would not make 
much of a farmer’s wife.” 

“ Oh ! beg pardon, then. What are you going out 
there for?” 

“ Just to have a good time.” 

“ Well, now, if that don’t beat all. I am mistaken, 
I see, and you will excuse me, of course.” 

“ I guess I’ll be obliged to, under the circum- 
stances,” replied Louisa, after which all joined in a 
hearty laugh, and the meal continued with many 
such jesting remarks. 

As soon as breakfast was over, the family assem- 
bled in the drawing-room, but they were scarcely 
seated when Mr. Van Benthusen’s spanking span 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


227 


of shining blacks dashed up to the side-door, and 
one of the servants rushed into the room and ex- 
claimed: 

“ Laws, Miss Louisa, if Thomas Henry hain’t gone 
and got the team to the door already, and he says 
there’s no time to waste.” 

At that, Louisa ran out into the dining-room to 
say good-bye to the servants, who were standing 
with their eyes filled with tears, and each in turn 
assured Louisa that they would miss her bright, 
smiling face and kind words. They wished she 
would get there safe and have a jolly time and come 
back home soon. The servants all loved Louisa, 
and for this reason they could not bear to have her 
go away, even for a short visit. As soon as she 
had spoken encouraging words to them and had 
bidden them adieu, she and her mother were assisted 
into the carriage by Mr. Van Benthusen and soon 
they were rolling along the street toward the resi- 
dence of Mrs. Scrivener, who was waiting on the 
porch. 

Louisa was dressed in a very becoming traveling 
suit of seal-brown cashmere, over which she wore a 
gray linen duster. A dainty little stiff-brimmed walk- 
ing hat, surrounded by a feathered wreath of pea- 
cock-green, completed her costume. Mrs. Scrivener 
was habited in a suit of deep mourning. Although 
wearing nothing elegant, they were dressed in per- 
fect good taste, which harmonized with the charac- 
ters of both the ladies. 


22 % LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN J OR, 

At the depot, Louisa and Mrs. Scrivener bid an 
affectionate good-bye to mother, father and friends, 
and left behind their beautiful homes, with all their 
happy surroundings, and all the sweet ties that 
existed in their hearts, linking together parent and 
child, friend and friend. A moment more, and the 
conductor shouted, “ all aboard,” and every moment 
bore them farther and farther away from the dear 
ones left behind, and soon miles upon miles of dis- 
tance were lying between them. The rich scenery 
presenting itself as the train sped swiftly on, gave 
Louisa exquisite pleasure as it does all other lovers 
of nature as they look upon the changing scenes. 
The dark, impenetrable evergreen forests, and the 
woods of maple and oak with gorgeous-colored foli- 
age, fields of waving corn lying between, and great 
yellow pumpkins scattered profusely about Hills, 
dales, plains and valleys were covered with a mantle 
of dark, rich green. Huge rocks piled one upon 
another, emerging from high mountain slopes, from 
which here and there little streams trickled down 
into transparent lakes, and gushing streams of 
sparkling water. Wide and deep navigable rivers, 
flowing east and west toward the* rising and the 
setting sun. Cattle and sheep feeding upon choice 
spots of short grass. Large orchards, hanging 
ladened with golden fruit. Now and then a farm 
house, with a merry group of romping children, 
crowding like roses out of a winding way-side bush, 
to catch sight of the train as it spechon and on. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


229 


The day was fast drawing to a close, and Mrs. 
Scrivener and Louisa, feeling somewhat fatigued by 
the long day’s travel, agreed to stop off at one of the 
principal cities on the route, for they felt the need of 
a good night’s rest before continuing their journey. 
It was early in the evening, and the large, elegant 
hotel at which they stopped was crowded with tour- 
ists. After procuring pleasant rooms, large and 
beautifully furnished, with every comfort provided, 
they descended to the dining-room in their traveling 
suits. As they were taking a long journey for com- 
fort, they were dressed quite plainly, not wishing to 
attract attention. When they entered the spacious 
dining-hall a glance told them it was well filled, and 
they were conducted almost to the extreme end 
before they found seats, and many a sly glance was 
cast upon them as they passed along the brilliantly- 
lighted room. But so accustomed to the rules of 
etiquette were Mrs. Scrivener and Miss Van Ben- 
thusen, that they passed along as quietly and uncon- 
cerned as though there were none others present in 
the room but themselves. This course bore suffi- 
cient evidence to the refined portion of the guests 
that they were true ladies, even though not arrayed 
in silks and laces, nor with gems sparkling upon their 
persons like many that occupied seats near their 
own. 

The next morning they continued their journey 
all day until they were within twenty miles of their 
destination. They decided not to conclude their 


230 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

journey that night, but to stop off at the next place 
and remain over night and then take a fresh start 
in the morning, so that they would not be too much 
fatigued when they reached their destination. Ac- 
cordingly, as they agreed, they stopped for the night 
and the next morning they were up bright and early. 

How full of joy were their hearts now, knowing 
that but a few miles more and they would stand in 
the presence of Charlie Scrivener. How slow the 
moments passed away. It seemed as if the breakfast 
was at ten instead of eight. How long it was to 
wait for the train, and when it did come, and they 
were safely seated in the car, and it moved slowly 
out of the depot, it seemed as if it did not move 
half fast enough. But time hastened on, and soon 
brought them to the end of their journey. 

A telegram had been sent ahead and the fine, 
intelligent face of Charlie Scrivener was soon noticed 
by Louisa among the crowd of people, and it was 
not many minutes before a cordial hand-shaking 
was in progress. 

“ Come,” said he, “ the carriage is waiting for you. 
Let me help you in and then give me your checks, 
and I’ll have the trunks sent up right away. This 
done, the noble span of iron-grays were soon dashing 
up the long street that led to the hotel where Charlie 
had pleasant rooms fitted up for them. At the hotel, 
they were introduced to the landlord, a large, portly 
man, with heavy gray beard, and a keen, sharp, dark 
eye. Extending his hand, he gave them each a 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


231 


cordial greeting, that told them at once that they 
were welcome, at the same time saying, as he looked 
into their faces, with a smile : 

“ I declare, strangers, I am glad you have come ; 
for the young gentleman here,” pointing to Charlie, 
“ has not been quite himself for the past week ; affected 
right away when he knew you were coming.” 

“ ’Tis nothing strange, for he was always on hand 
to greet us whenever we returned from any place.” 

“ It is almost dinner-time. Ain’t you hungry ?” 
said the landlord. Then turning to one of the 
porters, he continued, saying, “ John, show these 
ladies up to their room and, here, Pete, take these 
trunks up to No. 10, while I run out and speak to the 
cook and we’ll just get dinner around in a hurry.” 
As the ladies turned to go to their room, the land- 
lord noticed his better-half coming and he exclaimed : 
“ Plere comes my woman. Let me make you 
acquainted with her. She will see that you get 
everything for comfort.” So, suiting the action to 
his words, they were presented, and after a few 
minutes’ conversation, Mrs. Scrivener suggested to 
Louisa that they retire to their rooms for a time. 
This they did, and found them indeed as neat 
and clean, and as nicely furnished, as they could 
wish. 

“ Just see,” exclaimed Louisa, “what a lovely 
view from this window. Isn’t it delightful ?” 

“ It is, indeed. I should think it would be lovely 
here in the summer-time ; so many shade-trees ; 


232 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

and here is a door that opens out upon the balcony, 
which is the entire length of the building.” 

“ So it is,” replied Louisa. “ Isn’t that nice,” and 
they stepped out for a few moments, and it was not 
long before they were joined by Charlie, who was 
so delighted to see them, that he really forgot and 
repeated his words over half a dozen times. 

At length the dinner-bell rang and the newly ar- 
rived guests descended to the dining-room accom- 
panied by Charlie. 

There was many a sidelong glance cast upon 
them and many remarks passed upon them. For 
instance : 

“ She is just lovely.” “ It’s his sister or some re- 
lation.” “ I bet it is his sweetheart.” “ One is Mr. 
Scrivener’s mother, any way.” “ I tell you, but they 
have got the style.” “ You are right, and the land- 
lord says they are mighty well off, too and a 
hundred other remarks such as you, kind reader, 
have often heard passed upon strangers as they 
enter the dining-room of a hotel. 

They were soon seated at the table, upon which 
was placed a dinner that would satisfy the palate of 
an epicure. Roast chicken, and beef with rich 
dressing, lobster salad, a variety of vegetables, coffee, 
as clear as amber, with rich cream, cranberry sauce 
and other et cseteras, all of the best and choicest 
kind. They ate heartily, and when dinner was over, 
Charlie excused himself for an hour, as he wished 
to attend to some business matters, and so when tho 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


233 


distinguished guests were passing through the hall, 
Mr. Graham, the kind-hearted landlord, met them 
and said : 

“ Mrs. Scrivener you have a noble son. He is 
well liked here. Everybody is his friend.” 

“ I am glad he is respected and has so many 
friends. He seems to be thoroughly satisfied with 
his western home and speaks of the people in the 
most glowing terms.” 

“ He is the backbone of this town, for since he 
came here he has stirred up the people and we have 
a Young Men’s Christian Association started, and a 
temperance society, and it has over two hundred 
members now. I can’t begin to tell you all the 
good work he has done. I tell you he is just the 
man for this little city.” 

“ I am happy to learn that he has devoted himself 
to Christian work and thank you for your kind 
opinion of him.” 

“ No thanks sare required, Mrs. Scrivener, but the 
woman that gets him for a husband will get a prize. 
All the girls around here are crazy over him. Why 
he has one of the finest residences in the city and now 
I reckon he will get the bird to put into it, soon,” 
and then he laughed until he shook all over with 
delight. 

Mrs. Scrivener replied that she hoped he would 
choose some one who was worthy, in her heart feel- 
ing as if she had rather it would be the beautiful 
girl by her side than any one else, but she did not 


234 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

know who her son had chosen and so she continued, 
saying : “ I guess he is in no hurry.” 

“ Well, it’s pretty well figured down among the 
boys that he is going to step off, but I hope he will 
not marry some stuck-up city girl that don’t know 
us common folks. We western folks are not stuck- 
up a bit, and if he does, we won’t have anything to 
do with her.” 

“ I warrant you, Mr. Graham, if ever he brings a 
bride here, she will be one who will win the hearts 
of all his friends.” 

In such light badinage the time passed quickly 
away. 

And now, just leave them for a time, and look 
upon another scene in the parlor of Mrs. Schaydell. 
There sat Fannie giving orders, and commanding 
the servants to go hither and thither and wait upon 
all her whims and fancies. She had just returned 
from Long Branch, where she had succeeded, by the 
aid of an elegant wardrobe of silks, satins, velvets 
and laces, and an elegant display of brilliant diamonds 
and pearls, together with her fine features and form, 
and her great power of language that she could com- 
mand, in the most eloquent manner, in attracting to 
her side a wealthy foreigner, with whom she fell 
deeply in love, because of his magnificent dress, his 
fascinating manner, and most of all, because of his 
bank accounts, which were not small by any means. 

He seemed equally as much in love with her. She 
was the envy of all the ladies at Long Branch and 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


235 


created a wild sensation by the magnificence of her 
dress, that far surpassed any lady there. Her mother 
had spent hundreds of dollars upon her to aid her 
in marriage with some nobleman. She had at last 
succeeded in her desire, and as soon as she became 
engaged to Count Delareaux, it was whispered about 
among all the fashionable guests at the hotel. She 
was the centre of admiration, and her name was the 
subject of conversation among hundreds of people 
that had met her at the seashore. 

And now she has returned home to make prepa- 
rations for one of the grandest weddings that had 
ever occurred in their city. The time designated 
was the early part of February, and the mother and 
daughter were taxing their brains to their utmost 
capacity from morning until night, to decide on all 
plans to work upon that would make the most 
gorgeous display. Several dressmakers were en- 
gaged and the work was in its depths. The haughty, 
cold-hearted creature is now all anxiety and thinks 
only of the day that will make her the bride of one 
of the wealthiest gentlemen in the land. And now 
whilst she is musing and dreaming away the golden 
hours, we will follow up the happy party in the west 
and listen to their sayings and determine the result. 


236 


LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE DECLARATION OF LOVE. 

O NE week had passed away since the arrival of 
Mrs. Scrivener and Louisa Van Benthusen at 
the western hotel. The days had been so joyously 
spent that they could hardly realize that time was 
so rapidly passing away. One day when Charlie 
met his mother and Louisa at the breakfast table, 
he said : 

“ Would you not like to walk over to see my 
house, this morning ?” 

“ Certainly,” replied his mother; “why had we not 
thought of it before ?” 

“ I would be delighted to see it,” answered Louisa, 
at the same time. 

“ It is called as handsome a residence as there is 
in our city, by the people, and when it is all done, I 
think it will be. I am going to have the grounds 
laid out in good shape ; the workmen begin opera- 
tions to-morrow.” 

“ Is it possible ?” responded the indulgent mother, 
arching her eyebrows as if a little astonished at the 
rapid progression of her son’s plans. 

“ Yes,” replied Charlie, “ I am going to be mar- 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


237 


ried one of these days, and I want you to look at 
the house and see if you do not think it will be a 
nice home to take my intended bride to.” 

“ We will with pleasure !” replied Louisa, her 
voice trembling a trifle; but she put on an artificial 
smile, so that Charlie and his mother would not 
suspect that it cost her a hard struggle to say words 
that she did not exactly mean. She had watched 
Charlie intently for the slightest manifestation of 
those wonderful symptoms of love that Edith Sil- 
verthorn had previously warned her of, but she saw 
none of those loving glances, heard none of those 
gentle words that spoke any louder than those of 
a true friend, and she felt that it was only one of 
Edith’s ideas of something that she would like to 
have occur. 

Louisa tried hard to resign herself to the fact that 
sjie had been living under false impressions, and 
that Charlie only loved her because of the affection 
that had existed between her and his idolized sister, 
who had found so early a grave. She knew that he 
considered her as his truest friend, and she resolved 
to be that to him, even though some other lady 
would be his bride and have the happiness she had 
so long coveted. 

With a sad heart, she forced herself to eat of the 
excellent viands that were spread before her, and 
conversed with as much control over her feelings 
as though no dark shadow had lingered over the 
bright sky of her future life. 


238 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“ I must not,” she said, “ I will not betray my 
heart’s secret, for he was not to blame, ’twas I my- 
self, for I loved hirrrand he knew it not.” 

Indeed he did not know it; ’twas true. If he had, 
there would be no cause for clouds and shadows; 
but he lives in ignorance of her affection for him. 
If she only knew the deep, passionate love that 
existed in his heart for her, it would clear away all 
sadness of thought and feeling; but she knew noth- 
ing of it, and time only can determine the result. 

It was one of those lovely autumn days; leaves 
that but a short time ago wore a bright green color, 
are now changed to golden and crimson hues, and 
with every breath of the sighing wind they fall 
trembling to the ground. The summer birds have 
left their nests and flown to a sunnier shore. They 
lingered till the cool winds swept through the trees 
and withered their green homes, and now the merry 
little warbling songsters mingle no more their voices 
with the rivulet’s song. The rich flowers have faded 
away like the pale star of the early morning and 
perished on the same silent earth that gave them 
their birthplace. All nature seemed transfigured, 
as the dying hours of the fast-fading year were 
hastening to their close. 

Breakfast was over, and Charlie, with his mother 
and Louisa, were on their way to pay a visit to the 
new home. Louisa, having now controlled her feel- 
ings, felt that it would be sinful for her to covet the 
affection given to another, which was, in all proba- 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


239 


bility, for the best. She chatted as gaily as she 
could. Charlie thought that she must think or 
understand that his mind dwelt upon her as the one 
to share with him his future destiny. He thought 
she must know that he was seeking her opinion, her 
ideas, as well as her hand. Nothing was said that 
gave her evidence that any feelings of affection were 
swelling in his manly breast. As he unlocked the 
massive door, they entered first, and were struck 
with the grandeur of the wood-work, the high ceilings 
handsomely frescoed, and the beautifully decorated 
walls. The winding staircasings were of solid, black 
walnut, and the large hall, double parlors, and draw- 
ing-room with bay-windows, were equally handsome. 
The spacious dining-room was very attractive, the 
floor inlaid with several kinds of choice wood, so 
highly polished that it cast reflections like a mirror. 
At either end of the long room were open grates and 
marble mantels. 

In the sleeping apartments and all through from 
cellar to garret, the house was a model of perfection. 
From the observatory you could see for miles around 
and feast the eye upon magnificent scenery; the 
clustered spires of the little villages and hamlets, 
scattered about and nestled down between clumps 
of woods, or separated by an expanse of dark, rolling 
waters. 

After they had viewed it all, Charlie turned to 
Louisa, and said, “ What do you think of this home ?” 

“ It is superb!” 


240 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

“ Do you not think my intended wife ought to be 
satisfied with such a home?” 

“Indeed, she ought; it is elegant enough for a 
princess’!” 

“Do you think so?” 

“I do.” 

“Thanks for your compliment! The lady I 
expect to marry is equal to a princess.” 

“ I hope you may be as happy in this home as it 
is grand. But you have not presented us to the 
charming person you are to wed.” 

“ I know it, but you shall meet her some day. I 
hope before a great while.” 

“ I would be most happy to meet her,” replied 
Louisa. 

“Would you?” 

“Why, of course, I would!” 

“Then, you shall.”* 

“When?” 

“Oh, some day!” 

“ I suppose she resides in the city, does she not?” 

“No; her home is not in the city,” replied he, at 
the same time trembling, for fear the imperative 
beauty by his side, to whom he had been directing 
all his remarks, would question him too closely. 

“ Indeed !” replied Louisa; and she was just on the 
point of asking where she did live, but fearing she 
would be pushing her investigations too close, she 
refrained from saying any more, and they wended 
their way back to the hotel. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


241 


As soon as dinner was over, Mrs. Scrivener said 
that she would rest awhile that afternoon, and so 
Charlie said to Louisa : 

“ If you would like to go, I will order a carriage 
and we will take a drive out in the suburbs and see 
some of the beautiful country seats and the fine 
scenery. I will speak to some of my friends, Claude 
Seymour and one or two others, and suppose we 
give Farmer Todpole a little surprise. I would like 
to have you meet them." 

“ That will be just lovely ! I shall enjoy it very 
much ; when shall we go ?" 

“ In about an hour, or near that time." 

“ Very well ; while you are inviting your friends, 
i ll go to my room and get ready — so good-bye for 
a little while !" 

“ Good-bye!" 

At two o’clock, Claude Seymour and Martha 
Christian drove up to the hotel in their carriage, 
followed by Ed Lyman and Lulu Granger in another ; 
and in less than ten minutes, Charlie Scrivener and 
Louisa Van Benthusen occupied a third, and the 
merry party were soon on the road toward Farmer 
Todpole’s excellent homestead. 

From one of the carriages might have been heard 
sweet voices mingled together in song, whilst from 
another, bursts of laughter ; but those in the third 
were conversing so earnestly that no words or sound 
could be heard above the noise occasioned by the 
carriage-wheels passing over the rough road ; and 
16 


242 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

so much slower did they drive than the rest, that 
they were soon lost to view by a turn in the road, 
which shut out a sight of the farm-house. Just as 
they came to the narrow winding of the road, they 
came near to a bridge that was unguarded by railing 
and undergoing repairs. The sight of the new 
timber that was piled alongside of the road attracted 
the horse’s eye, and he sprung first to one side of 
the road and then to the other, then dashed on at a 
break-neck speed, until at last he darted from the 
road down a little embankment of several feet, break- 
ing loose from the carriage and precipitating Charlie 
and Louisa to the ground with much violence. 

Charlie was not injured, and as soon as he could 
extricate himself from the broken carriage-wheels, 
he rushed to Louisa, who lay motionless upon the 
ground in a dead faint. He lifted her tenderly from 
the place where she had been thrown, and carried 
her to the little brook running near by, and pro- 
ceeded to bathe her face and hands with the cool 
water as best he could. 

It was so long before she showed any signs of 
life, that he was afraid she was hurt seriously and 
that she was dying. Her pale face and cold hands 
and brow reminded him of his angel sister just before 
she passed away, and the thought that he should 
now be parted from Louisa filled his heaft with 
anguish. He bent over and kissed her pale lips and 
exclaimed : 

“ Merciful Father ! am I to see the treasure of my 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


243 


heart, the one to whom my holiest love is given, 
snatched from earth without a moment’s warning ? 
It is only such a little while since my idolized sister, 
Gertrude, was taken from me, and now must I lose 
another dear one, the one that I have hoped would 
be the leading star of my existence? Must she 
perish in the freshness of her beauty ? I have put 
off too long — O God ! why did I wait ? There 
have been all chances put in my way to tell her that 
I loved her, and here she is unconscious of my pas- 
sionate love ! Can it be that I am to be deprived of 
the only one that would make my life worth living ?” 

Having given utterance to these wild exclama- 
tions, he smoothed back her brown tresses and 
kissed again and again her fair, white brow. It 
seemed that the very intensity of his anguish 
aroused her to consciousness, for she unclosed her 
eyes and saw the loving watch and tenderness that 
Charlie was keeping over her, then shut them 
again, as if too weak to speak ; but the look was 
sufficient to tell him that she felt safe, and that by 
and by she would rally from her fright. 

At last Charlie could refrain no longer, and said 
in a voice full of love : “ Darling, can’t you tell me 

if . you are hurt very badly? You don’t know 
how I have suffered, for I was afraid you were going 
to die and leave me all alone ; and of what use 
would I be then to the world ? for without you I 
would not care to live !” 

Again Louisa opened her eyes, but did not speak 


244 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

for some time. At length she recovered sufficiently 
to say : 

“ I am not hurt very much, I think ; but the 
shock was so sudden that I did not know where I 
was for a long time.” 

“ Thank Heaven, you are not seriously hurt ! If 
anything had happened to have taken you from me, 
I would have been utterly miserable ! I can no 
longer hesitate from telling you how deeply attached 
I have grown to you. I have loved you from early 
youth, ever since we used to play together in child- 
hood ; but I felt that I must win for myself a name 
before I could tell you how I adored you, or ask 
you to be mine. Now I have position, honor and 
many warm-hearted friends. All I lack is your 
constant love to shed its influence over me and 
thus make my life one of completeness.” 

“ Charlie, you need not have waited to win a posi- 
tion ! I knew you so well, that I was sure you 
were all that was good and noble ; and in return, I 
gave you the love that has been embedded in my 
heart for years. I always felt that if ever I gave 
my hand to any one, it would be to one in whose 
breast beats a warm and honest heart. You ask to 
be the one — and your request is granted.” 

“ Thank you, darling ! You will never regret it, 
but see, dear, our friends are coming in search of as, 
and we will talk more on this subject at our earliest 
opportunity. I am so very happy now, darling! 
trust in my care and you will also be happy.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 245 

“ I will, Charlie, I am sure you will take good 
care of me.” 

“The very best,” replied Charlie; “and now we 
must defer our conversation, for the others of our 
party are close by.” 

When the other young people arrived at the long 
lane that led up to the door of Farmer Todpole’s 
grand old home, they had stopped to wait for 
Charlie and Louisa. But as they were not in sight, 
they drove back to meet them, so that they might 
all go together and makefile surprise to Mr. Tod- 
pole and his family all at once. When they did 
not see them anywhere on the road, they be- 
came alarmed and concluded that something had 
happened. They drove on, only to hear the 
accident rehearsed over to them by Charlie and 
Louisa. 

They were breathless with excitement for a few 
moments, until they learned there were no bones 
broken, but that a few bruises were the only tokens 
to show for what might have been a fatal accident ; 
for they had feared, when they caught a glimpse of 
the wrecked carriage, and no horse to be seen, that 
some one was killed or dying; and the gay smiles 
fled from their faces, and the ruddy cheeks turned to 
a paleness equal to that of Louisa’s and Charlie’s. 
What a relief it was when they found that nothing 
serious was likely to follow the fall of either party. 
But it of course cut off the expected visit to the 
farmer’s home, but they made plans equally enjoy- 


246 LOUISA 'VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

able, and talked of the narrow escape, until a kind- 
hearted farmer came on the main road from a side 
road that led through the woods, bringing the 
unruly horse by a strap, and looking for the owner 
as he knew it was the result of a runaway. As he 
came upon the scene, he told how he caught the 
animal and hastened on toward town, hoping to 
find that no. one was hurt. He offered to take them 
in his own wagon back to the city, and also the 
broken fragments of the carriage. They accepted 
his offer, and after the debris was piled on, the 
generous-hearted and kindly Lulu Granger insisted 
upon Louisa’s occupying her place in the carriage 
with Ed Lyman, as she was more able to ride in 
the. wagon and stand the rumbling over the rough 
and stony road which they had to pass, than was a 
delicate little creature like Louisa. They finally 
were seated comfortably and sped away toward the 
hotel. As it was nearly tea-time when they arrived, 
an oyster supper was ordered, and the kind farmer 
that came to their assistance was invited to remain 
and enjoy it with them. A good time in general 
followed, and the accident (but not its result) was 
told over to every one in the hotel, as all were 
anxious to know about it. 

Louisa and Charlie, while relating the event, felt 
partly grateful for their slight bruises, as they had 
been the means of demonstrating to each other the 
true state of their hearts and feelings, which was one 
and the. same in both. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


247 


Music and dancing filled up the time until a late 
hour, and when they parted from each other that 
night, it was not as they usually had done, but with 
a tenderness such as only engaged lovers can know 
and understand. 


248 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


CHAPTER XX. 

EDITH MEETS AN OLD FRIEND. 

S IX weeks of gaiety had gone by. Long and con- 
fidential talks about the past, present and future 
were indulged, and so bright were the anticipations of 
the future ! Delightful drives with delightful results ; 
long walks through shady groves that were fast fling- 
ing to the passing breeze their gorgeous-colored 
leaves. Operas, lectures, parties, social dances, calls 
and visits occurred in their turn. So many new and 
agreeable acquaintances were formed, and, suffice it 
to say, that the kind-hearted western people made 
wonderfully good impressions upon the minds of 
both Mrs. Scrivener and Louisa Van Benthusen, and 
ere they left it all to return once again to their own 
homes, they were deeply drawn to both the people 
and the climate as well. 

They knew there was a bright and a dark side to 
every picture of life. Though it was fall, and it was 
still balmy weather, yet they knew that very severe 
winters were generally due to that portion of the 
west. Still it would be impossible to always have 
fine weather anywhere ; and in consideration of this 
fact, they felt that, in spite of the cold winters, deep 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 249 

snows, and cold winds, they would like to make 
their home in that locality. 

When the day came to bid adieu, they regretted 
exceedingly to leave all that had grown doubly dear 
to them. But, as for a time, they relinquished their 
hold upon each other’s feelings, and they were soon 
again on the fast-fleeting train that quickly bore them 
away, especially from the dear one left behind. The 
parting between Charlie and Louisa was one of 
mingled sorrow and joy. Joy, because they hoped 
soon to meet again and not be obliged to separate 
from each other’s influence and company. Sorrow, 
because they were convinced of the true emotions 
that swelled within each other’s heart, and that a 
separation, under these circumstances, was some- 
thing they had never realized before. They never 
knew the depth of such a parting, and only when it 
came were they sensible of the bitterness such a 
parting could bring. And yet it was not as when one 
is borne away from their sight amid weeping throngs 
and peacefully laid away to rest amid the grass and 
the flowers; not such a parting as that; oh, no; for 
they knew that in a little while, if God spared 
their precious lives, they would meet to realize the 
greatest of earthly joys between hearts that love. 
But even though this little parting must come in 
between them and the glorious future, there was 
some consolation in the thought that they could 
correspond; they could write such letters as they 
had never before written ; they could express their 


250 LOUISA VAX BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

thoughts as they had never before done. Oh, blessed 
be the art of penmanship! and blessed be the letters 
that are filled with true heart’s devotion! What 
would the world be, could it not send letters to the 
sons and daughters of the earth, and thus keep them 
in joy? Ah, yes, their sad letters, too. But do not 
contemplate them now. 

But with all the inventions and arts, there are none 
equal to the expressive eye or eloquent lip of living 
love and admiration. The fond words could not be 
listened to, the loving looks could not be seen. The 
sky seems to have no beauty, the earth no loveli- 
ness, the words of the mighty in intellect, and the 
strong in passion, have new power to subdue the 
lonely soul to contentedness, or elevate it to a perfect 
joy when away from those ever held dear in the 
heart. The longing to lean upon the arm of pro- 
tection, or to feel the beating of the generous, kindly 
heart, or that deep yearning to look upon the eye of 
affection and listen to the tone of love, must all be 
cut off for a time, with only the pleasant memories 
and fond recollections of the bright and joyous hours 
that shone out upon the supposed silent obscurity 
of their pathway, and illuminated the glowingpages 
of the past, and cast reflections ahead into the future, 
just as the shadows chase the darkness at nightfall. 

As soon as Louisa returned home and her per- 
sonal notice appeared in the daily papers, the house 
was thronged with callers, both rich and poor. The 
gay belles of fashion and men of wealth and leisure 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


251 


had all returned from their places of recreation and 
resort, and everything was growing in interest as the 
winter season approached. Among her first callers 
was Edith Silverthorn, who was inspired with the 
same faithful trust that Louisa would greet her as 
of old, and they could visit in the same confidential 
manner as they had done many times before. In 
this state of feeling she was not mistaken, for Louisa 
was delighted to see her and told her how true she 
had pictured out the thoughts of Charlie Scrive- 
ner, and how happy she was in his affection, which 
she found to be greater than that of a brother’s 
love. 

But a few moments had intervened after Edith had 
gone, when the door-bell rang, and a servant ushered 
into the parlor a gentleman of pleasant address, of 
medium height, with dark eyes and hair, mustache 
and burnsides. He had a particularly nice look of 
neatness and taste, that showed his fine culture dis- 
played in dress, especially in the snow-white collar 
and dainty, dark tie. Louisa looked at him for a 
moment as if in doubt as to whether she was ad- 
dressing the right person or not, when he spoke in 
a familiar and well-known voice : 

“ It is Alban Law, Miss Louisa. I hope you have 
not forgotten me.” 

“ Sure enough,” replied Louisa, a little excited 
and pleased, grasping each other’s hands at the same 
time and enjoying a cordial shaking — a particular 
feature quite characteristic of his nature. 


2$2 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 

“ I am delighted to see you, Alban ; but you have 
changed so much since I last saw you.” 

“ Do you think so ?” * 

“ I do .” 

“ What makes me looked changed ?” 

“ Oh, that is easy enough answered. You know 
it always makes a gentleman look older to wear 
burnsides and mustache, but, I for one, admire 
them.” 

“ I feel what you say quite a compliment, Louisa. 
You have not changed a particle. You don’t look 
a day older than when I last saw you. If anything, 
I think you look much improved in health. You 
are much fleshier.” 

“ I am glad if I look so young. I am better than 
usual, but it is all owing to a trip out west from 
which I have only a day or two ago returned. We 
all grow old fast enough, and so we ought to feel 
proud of youthful looks.” 

“ That is true. I know I have changed some in 
looks and fortune. But I am just the same in feel- 
ing I ever was. And now I want to ask you what 
has become of Edith Silverthorn ? I have hunted 
the city over and cannot find her. I followed the 
advice of the directory, but she was not where it indi- 
cated, and the people did not seem to know whom 
she was, or anything about her, and so I came to 
you. I was sure that if any one knew of her where- 
abouts it would be you, for you were always such 
friends,” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 253 

“ Why she was here not more than ten minutes 
ago." 

“ Why didn’t I come ten minutes sooner, I won- 
der? Just my luck, exactly." 

“ Because you didn’t, I suppose," replied Louisa, 
laughingly. “ But you can see her yet. There is 
plenty of time. Won’t she be surprised to see you !" 

“ If you have no engagement for this afternoon 
will you be kind enough to accompany me for the 
first call ?" 

“ Most certainly and with the greatest .of pleasure. 
Edith will be delighted to see you, for she was just 
speaking of you when she was here for the first 
time in months, and she wondered where you were, 
and a great deal more that I shall not tell you, but 
let it remain for her to tell you, herself." 

“ Oh, do tell me ! I wonder if she will be glad to 
see me ?" 

“ I guess she will." 

“ Well, it won’t take long to find out, that is one 
thing certain, and the quicker the better, for that is 
the sole errand that has brought me to this city, 
nothing else." 

“That is a good reason for coming, I am sure; 
and so if you will excuse me for a few moments 
while I get my sacque and hat, I will accompany 
you." 

“ I will," replied he. And then Louisa skipped 
lightly up the stairs, feeling happy to think she had 
such a glad surprise for Edith; for she had been 


254 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

talking about him and how she loved him still; but 
how her father had forbidden him the house because 
he was then in moderate circumstances, and her 
father looked upon wealth as the only thing that 
would make a suitable match for his daughter, never 
taking into consideration the good and noble quali- 
ties that this suitor possessed. So this stern parent, 
maddened with wine, shut him off from his daughter’s 
society, and left a void within her heart that time 
could never wipe out. She begged and pleaded 
with her unsympathetic father, but he assumed that 
domineering control of affairs that compelled all to 
bend to his will, and so he heard not the plead- 
ings, and when stupid with wine he uttered many 
a cruel word that pierced Edith’s heart to its very 
core. 

When Alban took his departure it left an aching, 
desolate feeling in Edith’s heart, but she submitted 
to it all, and braved the storm, and kept on the 
same as ever, only there seemed to be something 
taken out of her life that she could not restore. 

It was Alban’s resolve when he left the city to 
invest what money he had laid aside in some busi- 
ness, that by strict attention to duty and earnest 
endeavors he might soon come into good circum- 
stances and be capable of supporting a wife in ease 
and luxury. Then he would seek out the pretty 
maiden, that was the first to cheer and encourage 
him when almost a stranger to every one as he was. 
Can you wonder that an attachment sprung up be- 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 2 $$ 

tween them ? An outgrowth of pity at first, but pity 
is akin to love, and so it proved to be. 

After he left the city he went to Philadelphia and 
there invested, as he had planned, his savings of 
several years in a large clothing house, which was 
doing an immense business. Gaining many friends 
and with the most flattering prospects he ventured 
out and continued with good success. He remem- 
bered the last words written by Edith, saying : “ I 
shall never forget you.” 

He is now in search of her, with these words 
written on the piece of plain white paper in his 
pocket, where he has kept them ever since the day 
she gave them to him. 

He inquires why she is so differently situated, 
and Louisa tells him all in the most favorable light. 
He listens, but it makes no difference. His friend- 
ship is not altered. If anything, he is deeper in 
sympathy for her, and all the more ready and eager 
to see her and cheer her, for said he : 

“ Now is the time when she needs my firmest 
friendship and attention, if ever.” 

“ Yes, indeed,” responded Louisa, as she drew on 
her gloves and advanced toward the door, adding, 
as she stepped out into the open air: “It is 
such a delightful afternoon, I shall enjoy the 
walk very much, and when you see Edith you will 
take a great deal of interest in her, for I think 
she grows lovelier every day and she is so faithful 
to her duty.” 


256 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

“ She was always lovely to me, and I presume to 
say that she will continue to be,” replied Mr. Law, 
with a smile. 

“There!” ejaculated Louisa, “ this is her pretty 
little home; a lovely place in the summer. I have 
spent many happy days beneath this roof. You 
remember this is where Gertrude Scrivener used to 
live.” 

“ Oh, yes, I remember it distinctly. Poor Ger- 
trude, she was too good for this world, too frail and 
tender for its care and toils.” 

“ Yes, you are correct in your views. I used often 
to look at her and think that same thing. But 
peacefully she rests now beneath the turf and the 
flowers.” 

Just then, arriving at the door, Mr. Law pulled 
the bell, and Edith answered the call. Louisa en- 
tered first and was welcomed, and then Edith cast 
one glance at the gentleman accompanying. Without 
one word, she recognized her old lover in the person 
of Alban Law. He seized her hand and said : 

“ I am happy to see you, Edith. I thought you 
would not know me.” 

“ Know you ! Why, I would know you among 
a thousand. Come right in and sit down. How 
well you are looking. The climate, where you live, 
must agree with you.” 

“ It does, and I am improved in various ways 
since I left you.” 

“I am completely taken aback, for you are the 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 2 5 7 

last person I ever expected to see again, after all 
that occurred to destroy our friendship.” 

“You see I trusted you still,” and as ^he made 
that remark, Louisa arose and went out into the 
sitting-room, while he continued saying, “ and have 
come to you again, after a long separation.” 

“ I am so glad to see you, but I am very differ- 
ently situated now from what I was when you used 
to visit me long ago.” 

“ Yes, so I hear and see, that you have been un- 
fortunate ; but do you not think these afflictions 
make us better men and women, and fit us more 
completely to encounter the rough and thorny paths 
of life ?” 

“ They do, indeed.” 

“ Had I known this sooner I would have come to 
see you before and to assist you ; but ‘ better late 
than never ’ is the old saying, and let us profit by 
it.” 

“ I have other griefs besides the death of my father 
and the loss of his entire estate. With the loss of 
fortune came estrangement of friends. There are 
very few that remain the same in times of need. 
But I have a few faithful friends that have clung 
to me, but my so-called ‘summer friends’ have all 
fled and left me. But I do not mind their absence 
now. It is a blessing to be rid of such friends, im- 
properly termed, I think, for it makes a mockery of 
the word ‘ friend ’ to call such as they by that name.” 

“ Rest assured, Edith, that I am just the same to- 
17 


258 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 

day as ever, and I shall not forsake you. Your 
change of circumstances can never darken or ob- 
literate the affection’s glow and warmth that I have 
ever had enshrined and cherished within my heart 
for you. Ever since the day I first met you I felt 
greatly attached to you, and now that I am doing 
well in a good business, I have come to ask you and 
your mother to my home. That will enable you to 
forget all the sorrows of the past.” 

“ Oh, that will be happy beyond measure ! How 
delightful it will be ! It was seeing mother deprived 
of so many comforts that she has always been ac- 
customed to that makes me feel so keenly our mis- 
fortunes. And then mother’s health is in a very 
delicate state. Yet she has a home for some time 
at least.” 

“Cheer up, now, and look forward to brighter 
days, and before another year, I sincerely hope that 
our plans of days gone by can be fully realized.” 

“ O Alban, I cannot express my thankfulness suffi- 
ciently to you for searching me out, when the society 
in which you move would scarcely consider me 
worthy of the common civilities of life.” 

“I care not what society may deem you. I am 
unchanged; and if you knew how much the future 
happiness of my life depends upon you, you would 
not wonder at my seeking you out.” 

Edith’s reply to this shall not be given; but suffice 
it to say, that ere the return of Mrs. Silverthorn, who 
had been out calling upon some of her intimate 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 259 

friends, Edith was the affianced bride of Alban 
Law. 

He had told her how, when he parted from her to 
go to Philadelphia, the time dragged upon his hands ; 
how he had pursued his business diligently to gain 
the position he now occupied, expecting to return 
some day and ask the proud, haughty father, that 
had forbidden him the entrance to his home, for the 
hand of his daughter; how her bright eyes and 
sweet voice had haunted him night and day, and so 
strongly that he could hesitate no longer, he felt that 
her voice must make the music of his life. 

Edith, in return, admitted that she had many times 
thought of him and longed to see him. Surrounded 
as she was by trials and sorrows, thinking if she 
could only see him she would not feel so keenly the 
cold neglect of the world’s people. 

Seeing Mrs. Silverthorn’s look of surprise when 
she entered the room and saw such a fine-looking 
gentleman sitting beneath her humble roof and con- 
versing with her daughter, Edith at once rose and 
said : 

“ Mother, this is my friend, Mr. Law; do you not 
remember him ?” 

“ So it is !” replied the mother, adjusting her 
glasses. “ I do remember him well, but at first I did 
not recognize him. How do you do, Mr. Law ?” 

“ Quite well, thank you ; I hope I see you well.” 

As soon as she was seated, he told her of his 
wishes in regard to her daughter, and asked her to 


260 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 

mention some early date when he might come and 
claim her for his bride. 

As no display of costly trousseau was to be pre- 
pared, the date was fixed the first of the next month. 

When he left Mrs. Silverthorn’s humble home, 
he at once returned to Mr. Van Benthusen’s man- 
sion to thank Louisa, who had left him with Edith 
and slipped cautiously out of the side-door and re- 
turned home, for helping him to find the treasure 'of 
his heart. He finished up by asking her to con- 
gratulate him, for he had asked Edith to become 
his bride, and she had assented. Then said Louisa : 

“ You have secured for yourself a prize. In her 
is all the refinement and accomplishments of a true- 
born lady and devoted Christian ; and you know it 
is important that a wife possess Christian virtue to 
make domestic life perfect happiness/' 

“ The early part of December is the time I will 
be married. I requested it to be fixed early, so that 
I might sooner give Edith the comforts that she de- 
serves.” 

“ That is good. Now, I have one request to 
make.” 

“ What is it ?” 

“ Let me make you a quiet wedding party at my 
home of a few of our friends, after you return from 
the church. I will talk with Edith, and we will see 
about getting out the invitations, for it is only two 
weeks off, and all that time will be required for pre- 
paration.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


201 


“ Your request meets with my approval. If Edith 
agrees, I do.” 

“ We will have a lovely time !” 

“ I hope so ; and I will leave all the rest to the 
good taste of yourself and Edith.” 

After a few minutes’ pause, he bid good evening 
and went away. 

Accordingly, the next morning Louisa called 
upon Edith to congratulate her upon her good for- 
tune, and they talked for hours and became quite 
deeply interested in the plans which were duly de- 
cided upon, and a list of names arranged, including 
those only that they considered as dear and true 
friends. At the specified time the invitations were 
in circulation, and everything was in readiness for 
the event which would make the life of Edith Sil- 
verthorn one of perfect joy and contentment. 

In the meantime a letter and invitation accom- 
panying it were sent to Mr. and Mrs. Goodes, and 
one also to Charlie Scrivener, which were immedi- 
ately acknowledged and accepted. 

Charlie Scrivener intended to spend his Christ- 
mas holiday at home, and at Louisa’s earnest soli- 
citation for him to be present at Edith’s wedding, 
he arranged his business so that he could leave it 
for a time, and he was soon on his journey home' 
ward, with a light and happy heart. 


2 62 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; OR, 


CHAPTER XXI. 


HONOR TO WHOM HONOR IS DUE. 

HE wedding-day at length arrived, and the in- 



vited guests had all assembled in the church 


to witness the marriage ceremony. The fair young 
bride was robed in a dress of ashes-of-rose silk, with 
no ornament save the little bunches of blue forget- 
me-nots that were daintily set in folds of white 
tulle with which the dress was prettily trimmed. 
Her bridesmaids were Louisa Van Benthusen and 
Bertha Vanalstine, similarly attired; whilst beside 
the manly form of Alban Law stood Charlie Scrive- 
ner and Lieut. Harbottle as groomsmen. At a short 
distance from them, arrayed in her widow’s weeds, 
stood the mother of the bride, and beside her Mr. 
and Mrs. Van Benthusen. Mrs. Scrivener, Mr. and 
Mrs. Dr. Lawrence, Mr. and Mrs. Vanalstine and 
Mr. and Mrs. Goodes were the only persons present 
besides those before named, to witness the marriage 
that would unite Alban Law and Edith Silverthorn 
together heart and hand. 

As soon as the ceremony was over, the benedic- 
tion pronounced, and the bride had received the 
congratulations of her friends, the happy party 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


263 


repaired to the elegant residence of Mr. and Mrs. 
Van Benthusen, where was a long table prepared, 
loaded with the most delicious viands that the 
season afforded. It had all been previously planned, 
and all arrangements for the occasion were a perfect 
success in detail. Merrily passed the time over this 
bounteous repast, after which the happy couple took 
the train, for a trip of a few weeks to the sunny 
south where the orange-trees grow, there to enjoy 
the sunshine of each other’s affection. 

Early the next afternoon, Fannie Schaydell was 
sitting alone in the parlor, deeply absorbed in 
thoughts of her magnificent trousseau that was nearly 
completed, and the elegant foreigner whom she 
would soon wed, and the wild sensation they would 
create by the dashing display of costly jewels, rich 
silks, satins and velvets, made up and trimmed with 
the most elegant and expensive laces. She thought of 
the contemplated voyage across the blue waters of the 
vast and boundless ocean with all its sublimity ; of 
the sights and scenes of the old world, almost losing 
herself in the walks through the deep shady forest- 
parks, laid out with picturesque taste and gleaming 
with refreshing verdures ; along hedges and green 
lanes, loitering about ruined castles, moss-grown 
and vine-clad, attending the fairs and garden par- 
ties, and coping with the people in all conditions, 
and all habits and humors. And so a multitude of 
thoughts and fancies of her summer’s anticipations 
ran through and through her busy brain; but the 


264 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

reverie was soon broken by a servant admitting a 
visitor. Upon looking up, she saw it was Clara 
Harberstraw, who had been in the city some time 
visiting among friends and relations. She was noted 
for her great beauty and was a leading star in the 
firmament of fashion, wherever she might go. Her 
fine manner quickly won the admiration of every 
one of the large circle of acquaintances that she 
made, and as this was not the first time that she had 
spent the gay season at this city, she had, of course, 
met Fannie Schaydell before, and they had contracted 
a close intimacy with each other, and yet, on the part 
of Fannie Schaydell, it could hardly be called with 
propriety a friendship, for she courted her more to 
advance her own interests than for anything else. 

Fannie’s great power to look into and read the 
hearts of others made her fully aware that it was not 
a love for her that drew Clara to visit her ; but be- 
cause of their seemingly friendly bearing in society, 
she did it more out of politeness than for any other 
motive. The salutations of the afternoon were 
scarcely ended, when Clara said : 

“ Did you attend the wedding yesterday afternoon 
and evening ?” 

“ No ! Who is married, now ?” 

“Why, Edith Silverthorn !” 

“ You must be mistaken !” 

“ No, I am not.” 

“ Who in the world would have her ? she is as 
poor as a church mouse !” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


265 


“ But she is married, nevertheless.” 

“ To Col. Thornburg, I suppose ?” 

“ No !” 

“ To whom, then ?” 

“ Alban Law.” 

“ What?” 

“ To Alban Law.” 

“ You don’t tell me so ! — Well ! well !” 

“ I do, indeed !” 

“ Why, I thought he went away, and it was all 
broken up between them. You know they had the 
most awful time there ever was ; her old father got 
drunk and forbid him ever coming to the house 
again.” 

“ Yes ; but strange things happen, you know, now- 
adays. Opposition always strengthens attachment.” 

“ She is a sly one, to be sure. I declare, I am al- 
together undone, to think that she, a poor music- 
teacher, should up and get married so sly and not 
let any one know of it ! A high-toned time they 
must have had in that little shanty ! I must say I 
thought Col. Thornburg was crazy over her ; but her 
father died a regular inebriate, and after they were 
reduced to beggary, Col. Thornburg, of course, con- 
sidered his position, and out of respect for himself 
and family connections, broke up the engagement.” 

“ There never was any engagement between them ; 
and, furthermore, it was she that released him, fear- 
ing that his pride might be mortified should he wed 
a penniless bride.” 


266 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

“ You must be mistaken, Clara,” replied Fannie, 
eager to bring her side of the story to the front. 

“ No, I am not !” 

“ Are you sure ?” 

“ Yes, I have the best of authority.” 

“ Who, pray ?” 

“ Why, the Colonel himself ; and I tell you it hurt 
him very much, for he was head over ears in love 
with her. She is a beautiful girl, you will agree ; 
and how nobly she has acted under her afflictions.” 

“ Well ! that beats everything I ever heard. I 
cannot recover from the surprise !” 

“ It didn’t astonish me much, for I am not aston- 
ished at any occurrence, nowadays. Why, just a 
few days ago, a young graduate from Yale met a 
lady at his aunt’s, while visiting one day, and they 
were married the next.” 

“ For pity’s sake, what is the world coming to, I 
would like to know ?” 

“ To an end, to be sure !” replied Clara, with a 
slight burst of laughter, in which Fannie joined, 
heartily. 

“ Have you any more news ?” asked Fannie, after 
a few moments’ pause. 

“ Nothing of any consequence.” 

“ Isn’t it strange,” said Fannie, “ that Louisa Van 
Benthusen, with all her great beauty and exquisitely 
lovable disposition, that people are always pointing 
out to strangers, does not get married. She is too 
good — ’tis a wonder to me she lives so long.” 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


267 

“ O Fannie, if you knew her as well as I do, you 
would not speak thus ; she is one of a thousand, and I 
dare say can marry to-day if she chooses. There is 
Charles D’Chauncey, the great millionaire lawyer, 
as he is called, who has begged for her hand, but 
she has refused him. She is perfectly happy when 
she is doing some act of kindness or cheering some 
lonely heart, and she is so charitable to the poor. 
Why, I really believe she would go without a grand 
dress any time, if it was necessary, to give the money 
to the poor and relieve their distress. She is an 
angel of mercy, and you know the Bible says: 
‘ charity is the greatest of all things.’ ” 

“She will be an old maid, no doubt. These 
people that are always around in sick-rooms and 
looking up paupers, generally turn out old maids.” 

“ Then she will be a happy one, and a blessing to 
all that are in any way connected with her!” 

Just then, Mrs. Schaydell entered the room, and 
in speaking of the late marriage between Edith and 
Alban, Clara said : 

“ I presume that Edith will be a great belle again 
this winter, if she remains here.” 

“What? a poor music-teacher a belle in the world 
of fashion? Why, Clara, you are out of your head! 
She will never amount to anything here, I know.” 

“ I don’t agree with you ; for I know her to be the 
possessor of a fine education, and a refined mind 
always wins esteem of all that inherit that quality 
themselves.” 

I 


268 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

“No poverty-stricken trash shall ever come to 
any of my parties.” 

“ Now, -supposing,” said Clara, “that Edith should 
remain here during the winter, and you, who have 
been accustomed to meet her in society heretofore, 
would give costly entertainments, would you not 
invite her, even if you did it influenced only by the 
thought that she would become a star in the society- 
world and perhaps give elegant receptions, and would 
then reject your name from her list. Would it not 
be better to yield a little and then run no chances of 
being left out?” 

“ No, I would not ! I would give half of what 
mother and I are worth to keep her out of it. Yet 
it would not do for me to attempt it, for the world 
might frown on me for so doing.” 

“ I would offer my congratulations if I were you, 
since you were once old school friends.” 

“ Not I r 

“ It would not do any harm, and it would not be 
noticed as such.” 

4 “ Where are they staying ?” inquired Fannie. 

“ Oh, they have gone on a wedding tour South, 
but are coming back to spend a part of the winter 
here.” 

“ Indeed !” 

“ You have not told me anything about the wed- 
ding,” said Mrs. Schaydell. 

“ I only know what Louisa Van Benthusen told 
me, that they were quietly married at the church, 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 269 

and her mother gave them a reception, and they 
started right off that evening.” 

“ Did you ever know of such people as the Van 
Benthusens ? They are always giving parties to all 
the poor of the city. It is a pity that they are not 
reduced to poverty, too, and then they could be all 
poor together.” 

“ Your ideas, Fannie, are incorrect concerning Mr. 
and Mrs. Van Benthusen. They are not governed 
by society in any way, and it is far better for them 
to advocate the cause of the obscure and friendless 
when they are in need, than to give rich gifts to 
those that are themselves wealthy.” 

“All right; we won’t discuss that subject any 
longer, or I will become indignant, and speak words 
that I had rather not utter ; so let us converse upon 
some other topic.” 

They acted accordingly, and the afternoon passed 
in a more agreeable manner to Clara. And now, 
while they are conversing, let us look for a moment 
into the state of Mrs. Schaydell’s financial affairs. 

The heavy loss by fire, that swept over the city of 
Chicago, and consumed her elegant property with- 
out any insurance, and other losses that were weigh- 
ing down, threatening to swamp them at any mo- 
ment. Mortgaging property so that her daughter 
could have a magnificent outfit, and not be obliged 
to feel for a moment that a turn of the hand, would 
reduce them to the level of beggars, Mrs. Schay- 
dell continued cautiously and calmly, making large 


2^0 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

expenditures that she knew full well were taking 
her closer to the verge of pauperism ; and though 
despondent when safe in the secret silence of her 
own room, she kept bravely and carefully the 
hidden secret from her proud-spirited daughter. 
She did this thinking that as soon as Fannie 
was married, and had gone from her, she might, 
by scrupulous study and economy, regain what 
she had lavished so profusely and willingly upon 
her daughter to carry out to the letter the proud and 
high ideas she had cherished. And then another 
thought presented itself to her mind, that she could 
dispense with her servants, and the money paid them 
would support her and enable her to keep concealed 
the humiliating state of her affairs, and expose not 
the skeleton that is often found in the closet of the 
so-called “ mansions of wealth.” With these thoughts 
she, under the pretence of loneliness, might live a 
secluded life, and seem perfectly careless of society, 
as if it had lost its charm, or that she was all broken 
up and changed by the absence of her daughter. 
This change in her way of living could all be rea- 
sonably accounted for, she thought, by her friends. 
It would be thought that such a transition was 
effected wholly on account of loneliness and drooping 
spirits ; and, indeed, it might well be said of her, that 
her spirits were drooping, for they truly were so in 
earnest. 

But the idol of to-day crowds the hero of yester- 
day out of our minds, and will, in turn, be replaced 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


27I 


by the anticipations of its successor to-morrow ; and 
so time, with the fleetness of a bird, is ever silently 
turning over its pages, giving intensest interest to 
the past, present and future. 

A week rolled away, and invitations were distri- 
buted among the fashionable party-goers and ac- 
cepted, to attend a grand dinner-party at the elegant 
home of Senator Randolph. Fannie sent word to 
her affianced and he came to accompany her, feeling 
proud to do the honor of waiting upon such a su- 
perb creature, as he considered her, in every sense. 

He was large in stature, commanding in appear- 
ance, and noble-looking, with a regular military air. 
His expressive forehead denoted a high order of intel- 
lect, and in his eyes were plainly visible the nobler 
qualities of his nature. The evening at length ar- 
rived. Glad strains of music echoed through the 
gorgeously lighted apartments, forms of beauty, 
dignity and grace move on, keeping time with its 
measures, whilst soul-lit eyes are gleaming with 
language that lips dare not utter. 

It was only in the early part of the previous June 
that a large assembly had met underneath those same 
gas-jets, and wandered from room to room amid 
flowers and decorations, to greet the charming 
Blanche Randolph on her return from abroad. It 
was only in the early June that a fair young maiden 
was stricken by a fatal poniard to the very heart’s 
core within this same room, amid just such gaieties 
and just such surroundings. But wait; let the past 


2J2 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

rest for a time and follow the present in its changes. 
It was to introduce and show off the elegant figure, 
the cultivated manner and the eloquence of speech 
of her prospective husband, into this gay society, 
and before their marriage, that Fannie Schaydell 
wrote to Count Delareaux a long letter and accom- 
panied it with an invitation to the coming event of 
the season, urging him to attend this most elegant 
of all receptions with her. But this was not alto- 
gether the motive that prompted the act; it was to 
let him see how she was honored, and the number- 
less little acts of courtesy extended her by the most 
popular and influential guests that she would meet 
there. And now follow closely their footsteps and 
listen intently to the words of love. 

After the evening has well advanced, Count Dela- 
reaux has drawn Fannie out into the hallway, and 
they linger on the stairway for a moment, while he 
breathes into her ear words of love. He tells her 
how he shall be blessed with one so intelligent and 
worthy as she, and she replies that her happiness is 
wholly in his keeping, and that her brightest antici- 
pations are of the future. He urges her to wait no 
longer for preparation, but let their marriage occur the 
next day. He says he has wealth sufficient to occupy 
any position, and that what is not now completed 
can be done afterwards. He cares not for display, 
he cares not for others’ opinions, he cares not for the 
idle gossip of the people, and he urges the question : 
“ Why not now as well as any time ?” . 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


273 

Fannie, eager for display, grandeur and sensation, 
persuades him to wait the time mentioned; it would 
only be a little while, and the preparations were all 
in progress. It would be a great disappointment to 
her friends > could she not have them entertained 
once more before she left them for so long. 

At last he considers that his accomplished bride- 
to-be, has everything arranged to suit her excellent 
tastes, and that she shall not be crossed in her 
plans, and so he yields, saying : 

“Everything shall be as you wish, darling; I will 
not dictate to you.” 

Whilst they stand there, and she listens to his 
earnest tales of love, a look of haughty triumph 
sweeps over her countenance, but was immediately 
followed by a sudden cold chill running over her 
frame and a death-like whiteijesi overspreads her 
face. Then a vision of the pure and gentle Gertrude 
Scrivener comes before her, and the scene of last 
June in that same hallway. It seemed as if the 
icy arms of death were encirdling her about, and a 
soft, low voice whispers in her ears the following 
words: “It was just this way, when happiness was 
filling my heart, that you dashed the cup of joy 
from my lips, and now you cannot long enjoy your 
present triumph.” 

Count Delareaux noticed the sudden spell com- 
ing over Fannie, and the paleness of her brow, and 
put his manly arm about her, and said in a gentle 
tone : 


18 


274 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

“Darling, I hope your sensitive nature is not 
overcome by emotion.” 

“Oh, no!” replied Fannie, “ it was only a reflec- 
tion of the past. I’ll soon get over it;” and she 
used all her strongest efforts to regain the strength 
that had left her for a short space of time. When 
quite recovered from the shock that she kept 
secreted in her heart, they again mingled in the 
gay dance, and soon the vision that had haunted 
her for a time left her. But she now and then felt 
a conviction that something was to rob her of her 
happiness, and deprive her of her long-contemplated 
pleasures. 

Little does she dream that whilst she is in con- 
versation with a noted man of wealth and fashion, 
Count Delareaux is deeply drawn in close, intimate 
conversation with another gentleman, who knew of 
the circumstances that caused the death of the 
beautiful Gertrude Scrivener. Ignorant of the en- 
gagement and approaching marriage between the 
elegant foreigner by his side and the fashionable 
star that he is about to wed, he, unconscious of all 
ties existing between them, pours gently, but firmly 
and earnestly, into the ear of the Count the sad 
tale as it occurred, never dreaming of the effect it 
would naturally have, but speaking more as an ex- 
planation of the thoughtlessness of the gay com- 
panions that frequent the homes of the noblest peo- 
ple in the land. The Count listens intently, eagerly 
inquires into the matter closely, and turns pale and 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


27 $ 

still paler, and is obliged to be assisted into the 
open air to recover the breath that was held in sus- 
pense so long, that it seemed as if he could never 
regain it. When he recovers from that shock which 
almost paralyzed him, he resolves in his heart that 
which must not now be told. 

At an unusually early hour Fannie retires from 
the gay scene, much to the wonderment of some of 
the guests. The Count assisted her into the car- 
riage and wrapped her shawl carefully about her, 
and they rode home in silence. He showed no 
signs of the love he had expressed so fervently be- 
fore. He showed no indications of tenderness. 
He had changed; he spoke not; but every now and 
then he drew a long sigh of relief, and that was all. 
This was too much for Fannie, but she bore it all, 
thinking he was feeling sad at the thought of leav- 
ing her again, or because she did not consent to a 
quiet wedding, or because she had not been as joy- 
ous as usual. Everything but the true cause of 
this sudden demeanor was thought of. And so the 
silence was unbroken until they arrived home. But 
they did not seem the same to each other then, and 
they never would again; the charm was broken. 
But Count Delareaux hoped that when he was alone 
again he could consider what best to do, and let the 
future remain an unsolved problem for a time. 

In the magnificent parlor, they conversed pleas- 
antly, but not the same as before they went to the 
party. There was no love-light shone from his 


276 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN; OR, 

eyes, and the color had all fled from his lips, and he 
looked like one that had risen from a sick-bed. 
They parted from each other tenderly, but there 
was no warmth in the caress. Still, in answer to 
the continued preparation for their marriage, he 
replied, “ It has not been my intention to change 
our plans.” 

It was only two weeks now, before her bridal-day 
would arrive, and she felt strangely impressed, but 
she cheered herself with the thought that all would 
be well in due time. She kept to herself the change 
she had noticed in the Count, and which she could 
not account for satisfactorily, and which she never 
tried to inquire into, lest it might not be for the 
best, or that, if there was nothing in it, and it was 
more imaginary than real, he would be suspicious. 
In the meantime he was battling with his heart’s 
trials which weighed heavily upon him. To marry 
a person whose cruel words had caused the death 
of an innocent one, and driven another to insanity, 
was out of the question ; and to give her up was a 
struggle hard to bear. 

Could he submit to such a fate that his love had 
drawn him to, or not, was the question. So, while 
he is agitating the subject in his mind, let us glance 
over into the next chapter, and read on, 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


27 / 


CHAPTER XXII 


LOUISA S MARRIAGE. 



FTER parting with Count Delareaux, Fannie 


hastened to her own chamber, and as soon as 


she had disrobed herself of the magnificent dress 
that almost stood alone, so rich and heavy was it 
with costly trimmings, she retired to rest, but rest 
she could not. She strove to sleep, but the drowsy 
god would not heed her wooing, and restlessly she 
tossed from one pillow to the other. All the while 
her thoughts were busily at work trying to deter- 
mine the course and effect of this action or that 
speech, and so the hours dragged slowly by until 
toward morning nature became quite exhausted, and 
she fell into a troubled sleep. Troubled, because 
her pillow was haunted by hideous faces and forms 
seeming to mock her as she strove to be rid of them, 
and at last she fell to dreaming. 

Before her, for a moment, all the earth seemed 
bathed in a halo of light. She dreamed that her 
bridal had come, and as the minister stood ready to 
pronounce them man and wife, a low, rumbling noise 
filled her ear, like a distant muttering of thunder, 
and all was utter darkness except just around where 
they stood. Then, in that dimness, there came a 


278 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

figure clad in white with cold, damp breath, and icy 
hands, and snatched the one she was being married 
to away from her side, out of sight. She screamed 
with terror and fright, all exhausted by such a 
strange vision which seemed so real, and she awoke 
with the perspiration pouring from her. Weak, 
nervous, exhausted, was she for a time, but when 
fully awake to consciousness, she noticed that the 
sunlight was peeping through the shutters, and upon 
getting up, she saw that the morning was quite 
advanced. She slipped on a pretty cloth wrapper 
and then rang the bell for the servant to bring her a 
cup of coffee and some doughnuts, which call was 
responded to immediately. As soon as she had 
partaken of as much as she wished, she arrayed her- 
self in a becoming Prussian blue cashmere dress, 
with dressing sacque to correspond, trimmed with 
deep white Valenciennes lace and pearl necklace, and 
descended to the parlor. At ten o’clock Count Dela- 
reax called and was admitted by a servant. 

Their interview showed nothing of marked indiffer- 
ence, and yet it was unlike any other meeting that 
they had ever had, for he simply called to bid her 
good-bye, adding that he was obliged to return to 
New York, as his business was of such an urgent 
nature that it required his presence to transact it, 
and that he would not be able to come again until a 
day or two previous to their marriage; but that he 
would send her word in due season announcing his 
intentions. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


2/9 


At this unexpected development of matters, Fannie 
felt quite haughty at first, but she saw it was of no 
use. She was disappointed; and why not? She 
did expect him to remain at least a week or ten 
days, until their marriage occurred, when it was so 
near. She did expect to be accompanied to all the, 
operas, debates and such parties as she was hon- 
ored with an invitation to attend. She felt sure 
that her name would head the list of any fashion- 
able entertainment, and she knew that another party 
was to occur within a day or two, at the mansion of 
one of great note, and that already the invitation lay 
accepted in the silver basket upon the marble stand 
in one corner of the room. But despite her expec- 
tations and crushing disappointments, the afternoon 
train bore away the handsome foreigner, back to 
New York — the one that she had grown to admire, 
and actually love. Not, however, with a true, hon- 
est, tender love for the noble nature of the man, but 
with a love for his handsome form and features — a 
love for the elegance of his dress, a love for the 
high position he held in business, as well as in so- 
ciety at home and abroad, and most of all, a love 
for his immense bank account, wherewith she hoped 
some day to make a wonderful display, and gain a 
name unexcelled by any other of her acquaintances. 
She boasted to herself that she would leave behind 
the great beauty whose name was first in every- 
thing, except the ones that loved display. From 
that class Louisa Van Benthusen was left out, 


280 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

and there Fannie Schaydell’s name was printed in 
brazen letters. 

Count Delareaux had been gone but about half 
an hour, when some ladies called upon Fannie, and 
during the conversation, mentioned the fact that in- 
vitations were in circulation for the wedding of 
Louisa Van Benthusen, and they were honored with 
the same. This was a wonderful surprise to Fannie, 
and she fairly stared in amazement. It was a sur- 
prise she little dreamed of, for she had hoped to 
eclipse her in that one event, above all others, if possi- 
ble. It did mortify her to think that so many of 
those she had hoped to slight at her own wedding 
were already married, or to be married before her- 
self. In her humiliation she sank back upon the 
soft-cushioned chair, and sat waiting in suspense, ex- 
pecting that of course she would receive an invita- 
tion. She would go any way, no matter whether she 
felt satisfied in her mind or not. 

The evening shadows began to gather thick and 
fast, and she was not yet in receipt of an invitation. 
The hot blood flew to her head, and for a time she 
raved up and down the room, and, in angry tones, 
heaped curses upon their heads. 

“ To think,” says she, “ that I am to be insulted 
and slighted by her. I despise her ! Yes, I loathe 
and hate her. I believe she has been instrumental 
in causing this coolness between Count Delareaux 
and myself! I saw the sly imp talking to him over 
in one corner, but she did not accomplish her task 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


28l 


so completely as she thought, for he promised to be 
here to wed me, and he is a man of his word. So 
I care not for her little game. I can make a display 
equal to hers. Luckily for me he did go ere he 
knew that I was slighted at the very event that 
would be the theme of conversation among thou- 
sands of people of all classes.” 

Whilst Fannie is thus meditating and nursing her 
wrath, let us listen to the conversation between 
Louisa Van Benthusen and her mother. 

In her elegant boudoir, Mrs. Van Benthusen is 
reclining upon a sofa, when Louisa approaches her 
and sits down upon an ottoman by her side, saying : 

“ Mother, I am sorry to be obliged to leave out 
one so brilliant and accomplished as Fannie Schay- 
dell from my list of guests, but I cannot conscien- 
tiously ask her to witness my marriage, when she 
was the means of crushing out the life from the 
heart of the sister of him whom I am to wed ; and 
when she drove my poor cousin to madness.” 

“ I agree with you, my dear daughter. I jt would 
not be right to ask her to mingle with those whose 
hearts she has stung forever, and left bleeding. But 
even though you do not feel it justice to invite her, 
I hope that you will try and forgive her, for God 
will yet punish her severely for such an inhuman 
act. It will come, sooner or later.” 

“I believe it, mother; and although I have for- 
given her for her fearful deed, she may yet See the 
day that her own sufferings will be as keen as those 


282 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN • OR, 

in the hearts on which she inflicted such misery. 
Yet I wish her no harm, and as I understand that 
she is to become the bride of the Count Delareaux, 
I wish her as much joy as she can take, haunted as 
she must be by the spirit of her victim, and the rav- 
ings of a madman ringing in her ears.” 

“ Well, my daughter, may God have mercy upon 
her poor soul, for I am sure she needs it.” 

“ Yes, mother, that is very true;” and with these 
words, Louisa bent over and kissed her mother’s 
cheek, and then left her and repaired to her own 
room. Feeling somewhat fatigued, she flung her- 
self upon her snowy bed and dropped off into a 
sweet, calm sleep. 

For a week past she had made calls at the hum- 
ble abodes of her poor friends, and had told them 
that she was about to leave them and make her 
home in the west, and, that whenever they were 
oppressed, or in need, to ask her mother or father, 
and they would supply their wants. Many were 
the tears that trickled down the cheeks of the aged, 
as well as the young, for they felt that parting from 
this angel of mercy was almost like a death-knell to 
their sorrowing hearts. But she cheered them with 
kind words, and bade them all an affectionate adieu. 

At length everything was in readiness according 
to plan, and the bridal day arrived. It was the 
25th of January, the birthday of the groom ; a 
bright and beautiful day it was, too. Just enough 
snow fell the day previous to make the sleighing 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


283 


excellent. The air was cool and invigorating. The 
stately Van Benthusen mansion was brilliantly illu- 
minated, and the great round moon shone brightly 
down upon the frost-bespangled trees and made 
them a rich picture, beautiful to behold. The 
elegant rooms are crowded with distinguished guests 
residing in the city, and from many other points. 

Seldom is it that the privilege of witnessing a 
marriage ceremony is rendered more pleasant, and 
at the same time more impressive, than on this 
occasion. It was very evident that parting with a 
loved daughter, an only child, was a sad duty. But 
Mr. and Mrs. Van Benthusen were confident that it 
was a union of perfect love between both parties, 
and that when they were separated, the many sad 
memories clustering about that memorable day 
would sink softly away into the obscurity of the 
past. 

The word “ Welcome,” woven in fine green on 
white silk, was suspended over the door of the 
reception-room, bearing evidence to the honored 
guests that their greeting was one of great joy. 
Another inscription in bright colored flowers over 
the arch where the marriage ceremony was to be 
performed, bore the words, “ God speed our daugh- 
ter;” which spoke volumes for the feelings of the 
loving parents that would have no shadow cast over 
the life of their beautiful child. Beneath this motto 
hung a large bell, tastefully arranged of white flow- 
ers. At one end of the room a circled platform was 


284 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

banked up with mosses and vines, with large calla- 
lilies and bright-colored geranium blossoms, and 
with rare plants of the tropical kinds ; back of which 
was a green standard with the words, “ God bless 
and protect you.” In this manner, all through the 
rooms were emblems of love and beautiful decora- 
tion of evergreens and flowers. 

All is in readiness and the clergyman stands wait- 
ing for the appearance of the bride. Every eye is 
directed toward the door where she is to enter. The 
bridesmaids, with their attendants, enter, followed by 
the bride, whose hand rests gently upon the arm of 
Charlie Scrivener, as he proudly led her forward. 
As they passed toward the centre of the room to 
the place designated for the ceremony, words similar 
to those when she was first presented to the reader, 
were again heard. Indeed, she was surpassingly 
beautiful as she stood before the minister to take 
upon herself the marriage vows. 

She was dressed in a pure white satin, cut in train, 
trimmed tastefully with point lace, a wreath of lilies 
of the valley crowned a wealth of golden-brown hair ; 
at her throat, set in lace, was a cluster of the same, 
intermixed with geranium leaves. The only jewel 
worn was the diamond ring that Charlie had placed 
upon her finger before entering the room, and it 
sparkled and flashed in its splendor. Simple, though 
elegant, was her costume, yet it bespoke purity and 
refinement. 

The bridesmaids were Bertha Vanalstine and 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


285 


Anna Van Benthusen, of Boston, a cousin of Louisa’s. 
The groomsmen were Lieut. Harbottle and Senator 
Danforth, from New York. 

After the ceremony came the usual greeting and 
festivities. Among the guests, numbering two hun- 
dred and over, were senators, governors, foreign 
ministers, military leaders, doctors, lawyers, and 
many other noted persons from various parts of the 
country, as well as those from their own city, accom- 
panied by their wives and daughters. Of the en- 
tertainment nothing need be said, save that the deli- 
cate and delicious feast spread so handsomely was 
without a parallel and was well worthy the host and 
hostess. The presents were many and costly, and 
the parents looked with many admiring glances upon 
their children and blessed them. But there was one 
among the goodly number that could scarcely speak 
the wishes that were swelling in her heart. It was 
Mrs. Scrivener. As she looked upon the sweet face 
of her new daughter, which was radiant with happi- 
ness, she could not help thinking of her own gentle 
one whose heart’s happiness was crushed, who then 
withered and finally died, and was hurried away to 
an early grave. There may have been other sad 
hearts beside Mrs. Scrivener’s, but they were kept 
under disguise by artificial smiles upon their lips as 
they glided through the merry dance. Tender eyes 
rested lovingly upon manly forms, as if questioning 
why from their own lives was one left out, with no 
dear friend to cheer them into brightness. 


286 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

Among those that thought thus was Bertha Van- 
alstine. She was first bridesmaid and Lieut. Har- 
bottle was first groomsman. He had been very at- 
tentive to her all the evening, and she thought many 
times, as she looked into his noble countenance, 
“ why can I not always keep him by my side, I 
wonder ? Why can I not become his bride, or am I 
to see all my friends leave me, and at last him, too ? 
I believe he loves me, but his tongue has never told 
me so. And so I must be content.” And so the 
merry hours passed by and Bertha’s wonderings 
were not a few. However, ere the wedding guests 
departed, he told her that he loved her but that he 
had met with some reverses, and that was the reason 
he had hesitated so long. 

It is strange how much the full heart can utter in 
a few moments, and before they left that gay scene 
they were making plans for the future. 

Of the many light hearts that had gathered there 
on that eventful evening, none contributed more to 
the entertainment than did Mr. and Mrs. Goodes 
and Mr. and Mrs. Law. 

With the exception of the gentle Gertrude, who 
had long been laid away to rest in the quiet grave, 
all the others of the number that graduated to- 
gether and continued dear friends through adver- 
sity as well as prosperity, were present once more 
to meet and be happy, only to part again as the 
happy couple left for their western home ; separated 
perhaps for years. But ’tis well said that, “ the 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 287 

dearest friends must part,” and so it was in this 
instance. 

Having now disposed of the heroine of the story, 
the readers are probably interested enough in Fannie 
Schaydell and some others, to read another chapter 
and learn what is in store for them. 


288 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; ok, 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

T EN days had passed by since the last interview 
between Count Delareaux and Fannie Schay- 
dell, just before he left the city and returned to New 
York. She had not heard from him in all that time, 
with the exception of a short letter, telling her that 
he had arrived safely, and scarce anything else. He 
could not write. He had tried to bring his thoughts 
to the point of overlooking wrong, but each time 
they were thrust back as if with an iron hand. 

He felt since he learned of the true character 
and disposition of the priceless treasure on which 
he had based all the hopes of his future happiness, 
that he must tear her image from his bosom even at 
the very foot of the altar. Yea, even if his heart- 
strings were torn asunder by the act, but quietly 
he left her, he deciding slowly and surely. But the 
final decision came at last, like a thunder-bolt from 
a clear sky to Fannie, who had steadfastly continued 
with her arrangements for the consummation of her 
brightest hopes. Invitations were already out and 
everything was to be carried on in the most gorgeous 
and costly style. In the midst of their preparation, 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


289 


word was quietly transmitted to Mrs. Schaydell that 
the bank in which her wealth was deposited had 
failed and what the result would be could not then 
be determined. 

Mrs. Schaydell fainted when the news was broken 
to her by a gentleman friend, and even though she 
might not recover some, he told her, she would not 
be entirely stripped. He did not know that she had 
mortgaged her real estate to such an extent, that 
with no bank account to draw from she would be 
reduced to beggary. The shock threw her into a 
violent fit of convulsions. A doctor was immedi- 
ately summoned, who after a faithful struggle suc- 
ceeded in calming her unstrung nerves and rendering 
her more easy. It was only two days now before 
the wedding of her daughter, who wrestled with 
fate and ill-fortune to keep up good cheer by words 
of encouragement, saying that she would soon be 
married to the wealthy Count Delareaux, and he 
would assist her and thus keep it from the ears of 
the idle world of gossipers, that were ever readly to 
pick up choice bits of news and spread them far and 
wide from one to another. She succeeded thus in 
calming her mother, and then cautioned her to put 
on a bold front, for all would be well as soon as she 
come in control of her prospective husband’s great 
wealth. 

For a long time they talked with and consoled 
each other over their truly crushing state of affairs. 
They met their friends and acquaintances, as they 
19 


290 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OK, 

called, with bland smiles upon their lips, and voices 
modulated to the gentlest tones, as if nothing had 
happened in any way to rob them of any luxury. 
The leading topic of exciting conversation all over 
the city was the failure of the bank, and people were 
busy in going hither and thither, all anxious as to the 
final result. With a large number of citizens it made 
no difference, and the gay belles of fashion were 
pressing forward their preparations to make an ele- 
gant appearance at Fannie’s wedding, and everything 
passed on as tranquilly as a summer day, until at 
last the eventful day for the wedding came. 

An elegant carriage was in waiting at the depot 
for the arrival, on the morning train, of the distin- 
guished Count Delareaux. But, alas! he did not 
come. With a countenance filled with dismay and 
anger, Fannie returned home, hoping and expecting 
to find a letter or a dispatch to explain the cause of 
such proceedings. But when she reached home, 
there was nothing to relieve the thousand wonders 
that flooded her brain. She took it for granted that 
he must have missed the train, or that he was now 
on the road, and that the next train would surely 
bring him to her side, and she decided that she 
would order the carriage and make another effort. 

Accordingly, she went again, but still he came 
not, and still no explanation, and it was now noon. 

The demon that had been slumbering in her bosom 
was now arising, and she went to her room uttering 
angry, vicious words, threatening to pay him for 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


29 1 

his neglect if he did come. She had flung herself 
upon the bed when a servant rapped at the door, 
and upon entering the room, said: 

“ Come, Miss Fannie ; you must be hungry. I have 
a nice luncheon for you down in the dining-room.” 

“ Leave me, you impertinent huzzy; and don’t you 
dare show your head into my room again until you 
are called.” 

The servant dodged from the room and ran down- 
stairs, but she landed at the foot a little sooner than 
she expected, for she skipped a step in her haste 
and fell, but just then the door-bell rang, and she 
got up with an aching limb, and several bruises on 
her arm, and opened the door. It was only the 
postman, who handed her a letter addressed to Miss 
Fannie Schaydell. She looked at it for a moment 
and was half inclined to deliver it to her overbearing 
mistress, when the thought flashed over her that she 
had forbidden her to come again until called, and so 
she gave it to Mrs. Schaydell, who grasped it eagerly, 
and without a word, went straight to her daughter’s 
room. As she opend the door and walked in, she 
handed Fannie the message, saying: 

“ Here, my daughter, is a letter from the Count ; 
it just came. Perhaps it will explain away the secret 
of his neglect, and it will all be well yet.” 

The words scarcely fell from her lips, when Fan- 
nie sprung to her feet and snatched the letter with 
a spiteful air from her mother’s hand, and tore it 
open and read as follows : 


292 


LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 


Miss Schaydell : 

Language cannot convey an idea of what I felt when I learned 
that the idol of my heart, she whom I thought as pure and gentle 
and lovely as the sunbeams of the morning, had sullied the purity 
of her nature by causing the lamp of life to be shut out from the 
heart and soul of an innocent and beautiful being, and had driven 
another to despair, all for selfish motives. I recoil from my vows ; 
a blindness falls upon my vision, hiding from my view all that I saw 
in you as pure and holy. I have weighed the subject in my heart 
ever since I left you. Fearing that I might act rashly and then re- 
pent, I took full time to consider and decide, and there is a certain 
something that tells me not to venture, and I wrote you this morn- 
ing to release you from your betrothal, and to say that time can 
never efface your image from my heart ; but I will never wed one 
whom I cannot love and honor. Count Delareaux. 

After reading the above, Fannie tore it in shreds 
and flung it upon the floor, and then gave vent to 
a violent burst of passion. 

In a few moments, white with rage, she related 
the circumstances to her mother, who stood as if 
transfixed with horror, and then, finished by saying 
that the carriage must be ordered out immediately, 
and cards must be sent to the guests at once to pre- 
vent them from coming ; humiliating as it was, it 
must be done. The house was at once closed and 
converted from one of triumph to one of grief, for 
they had based their hopes upon this marriage as 
one to smooth out every ripple of financial embar- 
rassment and still enable them to keep up their 
social position without a break. 

But time, that brings out the true state of all 
affairs, was not long in rendering Mrs. Schaydell 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 


293 


and her accomplished daughter almost penniless. 
They were stripped by law of their grand home and 
all its contents, and they were compelled to yield to 
their fate without redress. 

Mrs. Schaydell was offered a home with a sister 
that lived in an adjoining town, while the proud and 
haughty Fannie was obliged to go to the country 
and live with an aunt and uncle, of moderate cir- 
cumstances, with the consideration that she should 
assist in sewing and instruct the bright and merry 
group of five children, that in days gone by she con- 
sidered beneath her notice. Thus ended all the 
proud aspirations of her youth, in the overthrow of 
her ambitious projects, and the endurance of cold 
neglect, which to such a disposition as hers was the 
greatest punishment she could be compelled to 
feel. 

Now turn from Fannie to Count Delareaux. As 
soon as he had decided that he would not wed the 
charming creature that he had considered Fannie, 
he straightway settled up all his business engage- 
ments in New York, and took passage in the first 
steamer to Liverpool. This being the most approved 
means whereby he might recover from his disap- 
pointment and regrets connected with the proud- 
spirited beauty, that he had released himself from 
forever. 

Now, perhaps, kind readers, you will want to 
know something more about Bertha Vanalstine, the 
remaining one of the more prominent characters. 


2Q4 LOUISA VAN BENTHUSEN ; OR, 

• 

It was not long after Mr. and Mrs. Scrivener 
arrived at their western home, when a pleasant 
assembly met at the home of Squire Vanalstine’s to 
witness the uniting in the holy bonds of matri- 
mony of his only daughter Bertha to Lieut. Har- 
bottle. After the ceremony was over the happy 
pair took the first train for Baltimore, where a beauti- 
ful home of luxury and comfort was in waiting. 
Mr. and Mrs. Goodes located in Cincinnati and 
were surrounded by many comforts and rich bles- 
sings. Mr. and Mrs. Law, in Philadelphia, were 
exceedingly happy and contented and doing well. 

And now, a word about Frank Morrison. In- 
stead of recovering from his frantic state of mind he 
grew worse and worse every day and at last be- 
came a hopeless maniac. Several weeks after the 
marriage of his cousin, his attendants went as usual 
to wait upon him, and there, to their great sur- 
prise, they found him stretched upon his bed, still 
and cold in death; his eyes forever sealed, his 
hands crossed upon his breast, and a smile lin- 
gered upon his upturned face, as though he had 
met at the pearly gates of heaven the idol of his 
earthly hopes. 

Charles D’Chauncey, under the pretence of a 
false title, proved an imposter, having been con- 
nected with several smuggling schemes as well as 
involved in a case of forgery. Nothing could be 
proved against him, however, until he was finally de- 
tected and arrested and lodged in jail for counter- 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 295 

feiting money. He was tried, found guilty and sent 
to the State’s prison for twenty years. 

Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham had succeeded at every 
turn of the hand and now occupied the elegant 
mansion made vacant by Mrs. Schaydell and her 
daughter. 

Mrs. Scrivener sold out all her property at her old 
home, and went out west to make her home with 
her son and his bride, whom she now calls her 
daughter. 

Farmer Todpole had no difficulty in marrying off 
his pretty daughters to good and worthy citizens, 
and they are now frequent visitors at the home of 
Mr. and Mrs. Scrivener. 

Having now disposed of the principal characters 
of this story, we may add that it is not purely a 
woven work of fiction, but a description rather of 
various actual lives and their terminations. 

Fannie Schaydell represents a class of people who 
actually may be seen in society ; cultivated and at- 
tractive without, but no source within for domestic 
happiness ; and when the outside charms have fled, 
there remains a selfish, uncouth monster that saps 
out all the light from the lives of those that are des- 
tined by ill-fortune, or otherwise, to dwell under the 
same roof. 

Louisa Van Benthusen is a picture from real life. 
Obliged by position to contend with the frivolities 
of life, but yet filled with pure and steadfast piety 
with which her spirit was imbued, she was enabled 


296 LOUISA VAN benthusen; or, 

to gain the love and admiration of all classes of 
people, high and low, rich and poor, and by follow- 
ing the command of the All-merciful Disposer of 
events, she administered comfort and alms to those 
that weep and were cast down by misfortune. 

Edith Silverthorn shows that the active, cultivated 
mind, in the most trying circumstances, is enabled 
to reap richly the rewards in store for an all-sus- 
taining power of faith. 

Bertha Vanalstine, who was always sunshiny and 
happy, had never once tasted the bitterness of life. 
She was beloved for her earnest endeavors to lead a 
Christian life of love and truth. 

Gertrude Scrivener was an example of reconcili- 
ation to God’s will. 

If this little story will explain the necessity of 
trying to cultivate the disposition of truth and piety, 
the value of love and kindness, and the happy re- 
sults from a true and faithful, trusting friendship, it 
will not have been written in vain, for the endeavor 
to show that, although sinful designs to embitter 
the lives of the innocent-hearted may seem to pros- 
per for a time, the reward at last is a bitter draught; 
whilst the practice of truth, honesty, love and piety 
brings only happiness and peace. 

“ Life, like a game of chess, is full of turns and changes. 

The field of our kaleidoscope is altered with each move ; 

Too great caution, too much rashness, both alike are harmful. 

Courage, with forbearance, is the golden rule of life. 

Advance, yet circumspectly ; but move, and stand not still. 


SOCIETY AS IT IS. 29 7 

The world, with all upon it, spinneth onward — ever onward. 

He that is an idler on the march is trodden down unpitied, 

And those who skirmish unsupported, risk continual loss, 

Yet life’s losses, as in chess, are ofttimes well recovered, 

If only patience and good temper mingle with kindness, 
Providence will bless the soul that goeth stoutly forward.” 

Tupper. 


THE END. 



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